Another Day
by BreathOfWindFireAndSong1996
Summary: We're attracted to the broken and beautiful, right? When a new boy, Jace Wayland moves into town, Clary can't help but feel as if he's perfect, and she's drawn to him. But Jace's mind and body is steeped in seemingly irreparable scars. Can Clary help him heal? Or is he lost forever? Clace. Malec. Sizzy. Little bits of one-sided Climon. (Clary/Simon)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there lovers. ;) Sooooo. New fanfic! Because I don't have enough in progress right now… Anyway, I was SUPER bored in Anatomy and AP US History today so…I started writing a new fan fiction. And this is what came out of it…so enjoy. :) REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. If you review, I will PM you a sneak peek of the next chapter ;)**

"_**Meeting someone new is one of the scariest, most nerve-wracking experiences a human being can suffer…or enjoy. It all depends on one's view of the situation. Meeting someone new can be as torturous as the sound of one's nails scraping across a chalkboard, as refreshing as a breath of wind on a spring day, or as exciting as the first plunge of a roller-coaster. Your feelings rely on what you allow yourself to see."**_

_**~Anonymous**_

15-year-old Clary Fray tapped her right heel rhythmically on the pavement outside her family's warm brownstone. The tepid summer sun hung low in the hazy New York sky, sending beams of orange, pink and red streaking across the horizon. A slight breeze blew a few loose strands of bright red hair in Clary's eyes and she pushed them impatiently away with a small, freckled hand.

She studied her right hand, not for the first time. It was the hand of an artist. Stout little fingers covered in chipped blue nail polish the color of midnight. Her middle finger sported a large, reddish-colored indentation, made permanent by the constant pressure of a pencil, a marker, a paintbrush. The small stretch of skin between her thumb and index finger had a callous that matched the one on her thumb. She rubbed her finger over the hardened skin curiously. Maybe her grip was too hard…

Next to her, on the concrete step atop which she was seated, her phone began to vibrate, making her jump a little. She snatched it up and lifted it to her ear, her tense posture relaxing as her pounding heart returned to its normal pace. "Simon," she breathed, continuing to tap her foot."

"Hey Fray," returned the static-y voice.

"Where are you?" Clary asked, glancing up and down the busy street. "You were supposed to pick me up half an hour ago."

"Yeah…about that…" Simon paused. "My cat sort of jumped into the dryer again and buried himself in my mom's laundry."

Clary grinned. "How long was he in there this time?"

"About twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes!" Clary exclaimed. "Simon! Is your cat still _alive_?"

"Yes, yes, yes," he reassured her. "Relax. The dryer was only actually on for five minutes before Mom heard him in there, shrieking like a banshee. He's still a little shaken, but he'll be fine. Nine lives, remember?"

Clary rolled her eyes.

"Anywho, I'm in the car, driving as we speak. I'm about five minutes away, so…be ready."

"I was ready half an hour ago," Clary said through grit teeth before hanging up.

Ten minutes later, Simon rolled up to the curb in his mother's dusty green Honda, unlocking the door for an impatient-looking Clary. She opened the door and tossed her messenger bag on the back seat, dropping into the shotgun and shoving her phone in her jean shorts pocket. "Did your cat climb into the carburetor?" she asked sarcastically, as Simon merged with the traffic.

Simon's mouth quirked up in amusement. "No. Suffice it to say that eighty-year-old women should not be allowed to drive on New York streets."

Clary glanced at him. "Eighty year old women shouldn't be allowed to drive on any street."

* * *

"So…what exactly are we doing here?" Clary asked, jabbing her finger into her slice of banana bread.

Simon took a sip of his macchiato. "Eric said he had something to tell me."

"So why am I here?"

"He said he needed a girl's advice, so I brought you. I would have brought you anyway. Eric scares me when he 'wants to talk,'" Simon said, shrugging.

Clary frowned as Eric, Simon's friend and fellow garage band member, breezed in through the coffee shop door and seated himself at their table.

"Hey guys, thanks for coming."

Clary scooted closer to Simon, sliding her bread and mug of black coffee away from Eric's clumsy hands and wooden drum sticks. "No problem." She smiled woodenly.

Eric leaned over and took a sip of Simon's drink, slamming the paper cup down dramatically, as if he had drunk a shot in a drinking game. "So," he cleared his throat. "I was at Central Park yesterday, walking my…ferret…"

Clary raised her eyebrows. "Your _ferret_?"

Eric nodded slowly. "My ferret. They're only illegal in California, you know."

Clary looked at Simon. "Ferrets are illegal in California?"

Eric interrupted Simon before he could speak. "Yes, they are. _Anyway_, I was walking my ferret in Central Park when I saw this absolutely gorgeous girl. I mean, she was _sexy_."

Clary wrinkled her nose and pretended to gag. "And you wonder why you're still single…"

Simon laughed and Eric shot her a death glare. He stole the corner of her bread and popped it into his mouth, cracking his knuckles and tipping his chair back. "Continuing on… I let my dog run around and—"

"Wait," Simon said, wrapping his fingers around his cup and holding his free hand up. "I thought you said it was a ferret…"

Eric looked from him to Clary and then back to Simon. "Well…" he fished. "My ferret looks like my dog, so sometimes I get confused."

"You don't have a dog."

Clary snorted. "What's the point of this conversation, Eric?" She shoved the remnants of her food at him and knocked back the rest of her coffee.

Eric set his chair back down. "Well, the girl's family just moved here, and she's having a dinner party next Thursday, and she told me to come with friends so…I said I'd bring you two."

Simon raised an eyebrow. "This girl is throwing a _dinner party_? For herself? How old is she?"

Eric turned slightly red. "She's sixteen and her _parents_ are throwing the dinner part, but they want her to invite friends—"

"Even though she doesn't have any," Clary finished.

Eric nodded. "So are you guys in? Please say you're in."

Clary glanced at Simon doubtfully. He was watching her, his puppy-like brown eyes thoughtful behind rectangular glasses.

"She's got a _rockin' bod_, Simon," Eric said, elbowing his friend in the ribs.

Clary shot Eric a poisonous glance, missing the rapid change of color in Simon's face, which had become greenish. "We'll go," she said. "But not because you asked us to."

Eric grinned widely and stood up. "Awe, thanks Clary. And I don't care if you don't go for my sake. I'm going for the new girl." With a smirk and a wink, he disappeared from the coffee shop, leaving Clary and Simon to think about the upcoming dinner.

* * *

**TWO DAYS LATER**

Clary had always despised the first day of school. While other kids saw it as a fresh start, she saw it as a gateway to nine more months of hell. The first five minutes of first period had passed and she was already drawing pictures of her overweight teacher, giving him a barbed tail and spiky bull horns, and turning his whiteboard marker into a pitchfork illuminated with tongues of fire.

It was pretty good.

Mr. Beaton stood at the front of the sparsely decorated anatomy classroom, attempting to shush the class. "EXCUSE ME!" he finally shouted, surprising the forty some odd teenagers into silence. "I have to run to the administration office, but I should be back in no more than ten minutes. Please sit quietly until then," he said gruffly, and he left the room.

As soon as the door shut behind him, the class exploded into action. Friends that hadn't seen each other for ten weeks were screaming at the top of their lungs about how excited they were to see each other, and how their summer was super-duper mega-y awesome. Guys slapped each other on the backs and did their little chin jerk thing. Girls hugged and squealed and showed each other pictures of the boy they had a short-lived fling with.

And Clary just sat in the middle of it all, staring distastefully at everyone around her. The classroom door flew open, revealing a very red-faced Mr. Beaton. The boisterous class scurried back to their own seats, giggling and giving each other meaningful glances. Clary rolled her eyes. _Teenagers_, she thought, with some exasperation.

Mr. Beaton cleared his throat. "I would like you all to _pay attention_ for the next five minutes. We have two new students who just moved here last week from California, and they are going to introduce themselves."

Two of the most attractive kids Clary had ever seen entered the room, the tall, raven-haired girl taking long purposeful strides across the tile floor, and the lean, muscular, golden-haired boy moving with a quiet, lazy, cat-like grace. The boy leaned against the front desk and shoved his hands in his pockets, raking the classroom with his honey-colored eyes. A few girls sighed, and, in return, the boy winked at them and smirked. The girl shot him a sharp, reprimanding glance and then smiled glitteringly at the dazed classroom. "I'm Isabelle Lightwood and this is my adopted brother, Jace Wayland," she said, gesturing to the boy.

Jace lifted a hand in greeting and then slipped it back into his pocket, resuming the task of checking every girl in the classroom out and targeting the attractive ones. Mr. Beaton nodded and pointed toward the back row. "There are two more empty seats that you can fill. Now we have a full class."

Clary followed her teacher's finger a little absently before realizing that he was pointing to the seats on either side of her. She'd picked that seat so that she didn't have to talk to anyone. And now she had to talk to the two new kids, whose classic beauty made her feel like Anne of Green Gables: freckly and pale and unattractive. Jace was the first of the two siblings to begin making his way to the back, and as such, he locked eyes with Clary. Clary watched him, emotionless, as he smirked at her and lowered his eyelids. She wrinkled her nose and quickly shoved her black sketchbook into her green Jansport backpack as he slid into the seat on her right. Each lab table fit two people, so Isabelle had to sit next to a geeky, comic book-loving kid whose name Clary didn't know.

"Look at who you are sitting next to and get acquainted with them for the next five minutes. You'd better get along with that person, because they will be your lab partner for the rest of the year."

Clary turned to Jace, who was watching her and grinning infuriatingly. "Lucky you," he said. "You get to partner up with me."

Clary made a face and turned back around upon feeling a tap on her shoulder. It was Isabelle, and she was watching her brother with distaste. "I'm real sorry you got paired up with that ass. You have my full permission to slap him whenever you feel like it."

"Hey," Jace said, shrugging and spreading his arms out wide. "She can slap me _any time._"

"Gross Jace. We've been here for ten minutes and you're already making sexual jokes," Isabelle said with a scowl.

Jace grinned and waved at her. "It's all for your benefit, Izzy dear."

Clary turned back to Jace with some exasperation. "Just let me do all the drawings and everything should be fine," she said.

Jace's smirk plastered itself back on his face. "Don't worry. I wasn't planning on drawing anyway. I can't draw a straight line."

Clary studied him for a moment, which made his smirk widen into a cocky-looking grin. "If you make that face long enough," she said, still studying him. "It'll stick that way forever."

"Too late," Isabelle said, laughing.

**So this chapter is equivalent with the Pandemonim Club in City of Bones. It's where Clary meets Jace and Isabelle and she will eventually meet Alec. So. I hope you guys liked it! I think the next chapter might be the dinner party, IDK. REVIEW IF YOU WANT A SNEAK PEEK AT THE NEXT CHAPTER MY DARLINGS. And keep reviewing Turning of the Tides. HOLY CRAP. IT HAS 213 REVIEWS! *faints* How many can this one get…?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, hello there, y'all. Thank you SO much to those who reviewed, it really means a lot to me :) And you got a sneak peek at this chapter, so lucky you ;) I'm doing the same thing for every chapter, btw: If you review, you get a sneak peek. Or if you don't have an account, feel free to ask me a question and I will answer it in my next author's note :) ALSO, if you want to be an original character in this story NOW IS THE TIME TO LET ME KNOW. If you want an original character, post a review with the following:**

**Name (first middle last):**

**Age:**

**Birthday:**

**Hair Color:**

**Eye Color:**

**Height:**

**Personality:**

**I will be accepting new characters for the next three chapters and I only have a few spots, so HURRY HURRY HURRY.**

**Jace: Get on with the story already, you're boring them to death.**

**Me: *glares at Jace: Sorry. *sarcastically***

* * *

_"Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody."  
― Stephen Chbosky, __The Perks of Being a Wallflower_

* * *

Clary picked up an apple and set it on her plate, sliding her tray down the cold metal bar that joined with the cafeteria's kitchen counter. "I met that new girl, Isabelle, today. The one whose family is throwing the dinner party we're going to," she said to Simon.

Simon grabbed a cardboard box full of nachos, showing a vague interest in what she was saying. "Did you?" he asked, his eyes still focused on the food he was holding hostage.

Clary nodded and reached over him, taking a small box of chicken salad and setting it on her tray, knocking the apple over. "Eric was right. She's really pretty," she mumbled begrudgingly.

Simon looked at her, opening his mouth as if he were about to say something. He abruptly snapped it shut and shook his head, as if to clear it, his rectangular glasses going askew and a few tendrils of curly black hair falling into his eyes. "Well," he said, handing the cafeteria worker his ID card. "That means Eric'll have some competition."

Clary cut a sideways glance at her lifelong best friend, screwing her mouth up to one side. "You included?"

"What?" Simon blinked at her.

Clary nudged him over with her hip, making him blush. She slid her own ID card across the counter, waiting for it to be scanned. "Are you included in the horde of boys vying for the fair Isabelle's hand?"

Simon stared hard at her for a moment. "No," he said slowly. "Of course not."

Clary glanced outside the school's large bay windows, which opened up onto a large lawn strewn with stone benches and wooden picnic tables. The tall oak trees swayed in the breeze, their green leaves tinged with red, yellow, orange and brown, a sure sign that summer was coming to an end. "Let's eat outside," she said, still watching the windows.

"Okay," Simon said, following Clary, who was already halfway out the heavy wooden door that separated nature from the harsh fluorescent lights of the school.

Clary stepped across the manicured lawn, seating herself under a tall oak and leaning against its thick wooden trunk. She set her tray across her lap, watching as Simon sat across from her, doing the same. "So is this dinner party a formal thing, or…?"

Simon shrugged, popping a cheese-covered chip into his mouth. "I have absolutely no idea."

Clary picked at her limp-looking salad with her plastic fork. "I hate dressing up," she said. "Well…most of the time. I like my jeans, and sweaters, and tshirts."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

Clary sighed. "I know. It's just that my mom is so pretty, and she loves dressing up in skirts and flowy little tops. Sometimes I wonder if I was meant to be my mother's daughter _and _son"

"Your mom likes dressing up? I never would have guessed. She's always wearing those paint-splattered overalls and beaten-up tennis shoes," Simon said, flicking his chip. A drop of chees landed on Clary's nose. "Sorry," he said, biting back a laugh.

Clary wrinkled her nose and wiped the cheese off the tip of it. "I know, but she has this closet full of things like silk blouses and long black velvet pants and whatnot. I have…a dress or two."

Simon locked eyes with Clary. "Clary. You're your own person. You're not your mom, or your dad. It's okay to be different."

Clary opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by an amused-sounding voice from behind her. "Oh, look who it is!"

Jace Wayland seated himself next to Clary, nearly making her fall sideways in surprise. "It's my little red-headed lab partner."

Simon's features knit themselves into a scowl. "Who are you?"

Jace turned his gaze to Simon. He looked very much like a lion, with his bright, burning amber eyes and soft golden hair. He appeared to be relaxed, with his back leaning against the tree trunk and his shoulder pressing against Clary's, but she noticed how his muscles had tensed when Simon addressed him. He was watching Simon with a half-amused, half-challenging look, an eyebrow slightly raised above the other. "The one and only, Jace Wayland," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk.

"He's Isabelle's adopted brother," Clary explained, internally puzzling over the fact that Simon seemed to automatically loathe Jace.

Jace was pretty hard to like, Clary knew. But he had barely even said a word and Simon already seemed to want to kill him. It was very un-Simon-like.

"And who are you?" Jace asked.

"I'm Simon. Clary and I have been best friends since we were five."

Something sparked in Jace's eyes, but it passed so quickly that Clary couldn't read it. She searched his angular face for some kind of hint, for some kind of emotion, but the only emotion she received was pure boredom.

"Where's Isabelle?" Clary asked, desperate to break through the tense air that had settled over the odd little group.

Jace turned to Clary. "She's probably off torturing some group of boys somewhere." He waved his hand in dismissal. "Doing what she always does."

"You do the same thing, don't you?" Clary asked wryly.

Jace raised his eyebrows. "I may hook up with a girl once in a while, and I'll be the first to admit that I do a lot of…winking—"

"And smirking," Clary interrupted.

This elicited a smirk. "By Jove, it's like you know me already. Yes, and smirking. However, I do not purposefully build their hopes to heaven, play with them for a week or two, and then stomp them down into the ground with a steel toed boot."

Clary's eyes widened. "She does that?" She couldn't imagine being so cruel to anyone. She knew lots of girls who did the same thing as Isabelle, but all of them were catty, and nasty. Isabelle had seemed genuine and sweet in class that morning, if a little self-absorbed.

Jace nodded. "Oh yeah. She's already gotten six hand written letters from boys she left behind in California, each declaring how much he misses her and loves her and whatnot."

"And she hasn't answered any of them?"

"Not a single one."

"Not all girls are like that," Simon piped in, looking at Clary. "Clary's not like that at all."

"I know," Jace said softly, looking back at Clary.

Clary felt hot blood creep up into her cheeks. She didn't think she'd ever blushed before, and now she wanted nothing more than to run back into the school and hide under her teacher's desk. She looked away quickly, overly aware of Jace's eyes burning into the side of her head.

"No, you don't," Simon retorted, infuriated by Clary's blush and Jace's staring. Clary was _his _object of affection, not this douche bag from California's. "You barely know her."

Jace turned back to Simon, purposefully pressing his shoulder harder into Clary's arm. Clary jumped up off the ground, causing Jace to nearly fall over. She slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and picked up her uneaten salad. "That's rich, coming from the guy who's suddenly acting like a jerk. What's wrong with you Simon?"

Simon looked at the ground and Jace smirked. Clary glared at Jace. "You're not exactly the most friendly person in the world either." She turned on her heel and began walking purposefully back to the school.

Jace caught up with her in a matter of seconds. "Aren't you going to eat your lunch?" he asked.

Clary dumped her trash in a trash can and slid the tray onto a conveyor belt. "I'm not hungry," she mumbled.

Jace didn't say anything, but he kept walking with her. Clary fiddled with the strap of her messenger bag. "You know, you really shouldn't provoke Simon like that," she said, allowing herself to look at him.

Jace kept his head bent, almost oblivious to the world. She wondered if he'd heard her. His eyelids were half-closed, his hair falling into his eyes. Clary fought the urge to brush it back with her hand. His leather jacket was slung over his shoulder, a gray tshirt clinging loosely to his body, so that she could just see the faint outlines of his abs. He was wearing worn jeans that hung low on his hips, a black belt binding them to his lower navel. Clary wished she could freeze him right then and there, and make him stand still while she took out her gold, bronze, grey and black colored pencils and painstakingly drew him in every detail she could.

"I didn't mean to provoke him," he said finally, looking back at her. He adjusted the strap of his backpack. "I just wanted to talk to you, and he was in the way."

Clary furrowed her brow. "About what?"

Just then the bell rang, and Jace's words were drowned out by the harsh F sharp screaming in her ear. The hallway flooded with students, pushing and shoving Clary and Jace apart. "I'll tell you after school!" he mouthed.

Clary watched him go, puzzled, and then she turned and entered her own class.

* * *

Clary glanced at the clock. _Two minutes,_ she thought.

Would Jace even remember that he told her to meet him after school? Was he expecting her to find him, or was he going to find her? She started doodling on the depressingly empty margins of her English paper.

"_Ahem,"_ someone next to her hissed.

She looked up, startled out of her daydream, to find Simon staring at her. Oops. She'd been so preoccupied with wondering what Jace had wanted to tell her that she hadn't even noticed that Simon was in her English class, or that he was sitting right next to her. She slid her arm over her drawings, which were simple stick figures of Jace doing ridiculous things, like wielding a sword, or flourishing a velvet cape as a glittering gold crown sat atop his tawny hair.

Clary smiled and waved at Simon, who smiled faintly back. The bell finally rang and Clary practically shot out of her seat, shoving her books into her bag and _almost _making it out the door before Simon accosted her. "You didn't notice me the whole period," he said, sounding injured.

Clary glanced desperately out into the hallway. If she didn't get out there in time, Jace might leave without ever telling her what it was he'd wanted to tell her. And Clary was a very curious person. "Sorry," she said. "I was…thinking."

"Did that Jace guy bother you? Was he bothering you?" Simon asked, his face full of concern.

"What?" she blinked, her mind still half on Jace.

"That's why you ran away from the tree, isn't it? To get away from Jace."

Clary hesitated, then nodded. Anything that might make him let her leave sooner.

Simon smiled and hugged Clary. "We can stay away from him, okay?"

"Sure."

Simon looked at the clock. "Do you want to go to the coffee shop and get some food?" he asked.

Clary smiled a little. "Sure, but meet me there. I have to…talk to my anatomy teacher first."

Simon nodded. "Right. Tell him that you don't want to be partnered up with Jace anymore." With a pat on her back, he disappeared into the hallway, leaving Clary staring after him. She'd forgotten Jace was her lab partner.

She hurried to her locker, all the time keeping an eye out for Jace. No sign of him anywhere. Maybe he had forgotten…. She tried yanking down on her lock, to no avail.

Clary finally caught sight of Jace gliding down the hallway, hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, head bent, and a small following of girls behind him. He didn't even seem to notice them. Clary rolled her eyes and turned back to her stubborn locker, finally yanking the lock open. She pushed the door back.

'Ow!' came a voice.

Clary slammed her locker shut again in alarm, revealing a surprised Jace, who was rubbing his nose gingerly. "...Sorry," she said, wrinkling her own nose a little.

Jace shook his head and slumped against her locker, preventing her from getting through to her books. "Be my date to the dinner party," he said.

Clary blinked. "Excuse me?"

"My parents are making me bring a 'date' to their stupid little dinner thing, so I thought I'd ask you," he said frankly.

"But I'm going anyway, as Isabelle's friend."

"Then it won't be a problem, now, will it?"

Clary sighed. "I guess not."

Jace smirked. "Wear something pretty," he said, flicking her ponytail and stalking off again, leaving Clary to deal with the jealous glares hurled in her direction.

* * *

Simon pushed a poppy seed muffin at Clary, whose head was bent over a cup of iced coffee. "Here," he said. "You haven't eaten anything all day."

Clary laughed and took a bite of the muffin. It was perfectly moist, held together by a brown paper wrapping and dotted with blue poppy seeds. She swallowed. "Grey chicken isn't exactly my favorite thing in the world to eat."

"Not to mention the fact that Jerk Wayland probably ruined your appetite with his sickening flirting."

Clary looked at him in surprise. "He wasn't flirting with me…"

Simon raised an eyebrow in disbelief, fiddling with his paper napkin. "Are you _that _blind?"

She furrowed her brow. "I'm not blind. And he's not a jerk. He's just—"

"Are you actually _defending _him?" Simon was about to laugh.

"_No_. Well…yes, maybe. But you have to give him some credit, Si. He just moved here. He doesn't know anyone yet."

"So?"

Clary sighed and glanced out the window, slowly coming to the realization that Jace _had_ been flirting with her. Hadn't he? Was she just imagining it? Was Simon imagining it? Jace was a player, he had told her himself. Was he just playing her?

She ran her fingernail along the indentations made in the chocolate colored wood of the café table, made by years of poetry, hot mugs of coffee, marriage proposals, the selling of a home. She took a deep breath. "Simon, do you remember when Maia moved here from Montana, back in eighth grade?"

Simon nodded slowly. "I don't see how this relates to—"

"Remember how everyone thought she was stuck up because she refused to talk to anyone? And then you talked to her and you learned that she was just shy, and now everyone really likes her?"

Realization dawned on Simon. "Yeah, but Clary, Jace isn't stuck up. He's a conceited, arrogant, player of a jerk."

"Maybe it's a façade, like Maia's 'stuck-up-ness,'" she suggested.

"So, what, are you going to ditch me and hang out with him now? Coax him out of the little fortress you think he's built around himself? Because I don't think it's an act. I think he's just a jerk."

"_No_," Clary breathed. She grabbed Simon's hand. "Simon, I would never leave you. You're my best friend, I couldn't do that. You're like a brother to me."

Simon flinched when she likened him to the brother she never had. As to why, Clary had no idea. Simon linked their fingers together. "Okay. Because if you leave me, then I'll have to hang out with Eric. And lately, all he's done is stalk Isabelle."

Clary smiled and released Simon's hand, returning her attention to her coffee. Simon studied her for a moment. "You know how we have to go to that dinner party thing on Thursday?"

Clary nodded, thinking immediately of Jace. "It's a formal thing, apparently. We have to get all dressed up."

He nodded. "I know. Eric told me." He took a deep breath. "Do you think, maybe—"

Clary looked back at him. "Do I think maybe, what?"

"Would you be my date? To the party?" he spit out, with some visible effort.

Clary's heart skipped a beat. "I, uh…" _Damn it._

Simon turned red. "It's alright if you don't want to. I get it. We would just be going as friends though. It's not like I'm…interested in you or anything…" he said awkwardly.

Clary bit her lip. "It's not that, Si. It's not that I don't want to go with you… It's just that…" How the hell was she supposed to tell him she was going with _Jace _of all people? Simon loathed, even hated Jace.

"Are you even going at all?"

"Yeah, I am. I just…" Clary bent her head, staring at the floor, willing it to open up and swallow her whole. "I'm going with Jace," she mumbled.

Silence greeted her. She looked up to see Simon staring at her, pale-faced, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Jace. Of all people. Jace."

"Well, he asked me after school, and I just thought—" she stuttered, turning her gaze to the window.

"You thought _what_? That he was cute? That he was funny? Because let me tell you, Clary, _that's_ the façade. And horrifyingly enough, he gets away with it! Because he's attractive! If I were that arrogant and 'funny,' you know what would happen to me? I would have no friends! But apparently every girl on this effing earth thinks he's God's gift to the world when they should be thinking about how he's going to play with their hearts and then throw them off off a skyscraper, letting them shatter on the ground below. And then he'll laugh about it and move on to the next girl. I thought you were above that." He reached for Clary's hand. "I'm not going to sit here and let that happen to you, Clary. You're too important to me."

Clary stared at him, shocked. It was at that precise moment that Jace, Isabelle, and two other boys that looked like Isabelle, but whom Clary didn't know, walked into the coffee shop. Her heart began to pound and she sank into her chair, willing them not to see her. "I'm really sorry, Simon," she muttered. "It's just one date. And I am above that. I know when I'm being played with."

She breathed and kept watching the Lightwoods and Jace. They had finished ordering at the counter and were now scouting the room for a table. Clary sank deeper into the metal chair. Her method backfired when the corner of the armrest bit into her back. She yelped loud enough for the whole café to hear, and her back straightened up like a rocket. Within seconds, Jace was next to her, Simon staring at him incredulously. Jace didn't even seem to notice his presence. "Are you okay?"

Clary nodded, swallowing and glancing at Simon, who looked mad enough to spear Jace through the heart. Isabelle and her brothers had come up behind Jace. "Hi Clary!" Isabelle chirped.

"Hey Isabelle," Clary smiled weakly.

Jace looked at her with some concern. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't look so good. You look like you're about to throw up."

This was partially true, but it wasn't because she was sick or hurt, as Jace was thinking. She nodded again. "Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about it."

Isabelle laughed. "She's always pale, Jace. It's New York. She can't get a tan unless she sprays one on, and those things are _awful_." Isabelle studied Clary. "And she's not wearing any makeup," she said with distaste.

Clary put a hand to her face as Jace straightened up and looked at his family. "Uh, Clary, these are my siblings. You already know Isabelle. This is Alec," he said gesturing to the older one. Clary guessed he was about eighteen years old. "And this is Max, who is nine" Jace finished, ruffling the younger boy's hair affectionately.

Clary smiled and waved. "Hi." She cleared her throat and glanced at Simon, who was becoming angrier by the minute. "Um, I'm Clary and this is my friend, Simon," she said.

Jace blinked, as if noticing Simon for the first time. "What are _you _doing here?"

Simon simply stared at Jace for a moment, as if deciding what to say. Then, Clary watched with mild horror as his hand curled into a fist, and Simon punched Jace in the cheek as hard as he could. Without so much as another glance at Clary, he grabbed his backpack and his jacket, and took off into the streets, letting the door slam behind him as he went.

"What the _hell _was that for?!" Jace asked, holding his hand to his cheek.

Clary buried her face in her hands. "He doesn't like you. He's mad that…he's mad that I'm going with you on Thursday."

Isabelle cackled. "Obviously."

Alec and Max laughed a little also and went to go find another table. Isabelle and Clary watched Jace as he stalked angrily off into the bathroom. Isabelle sighed. "Don't worry about him," she said.

Clary glanced at Isabelle. "Who? Jace or Simon?"

She shrugged. "Either. Simon's your best friend, so he's not going to ditch you just because an asshole like Jace is trying to worm his way into your life. And then Jace…well, his ego's been pricked. He'll sulk for a bit, but nothing more than that." She patted Clary on the back and then left to join her brothers at the table by the window.

Clary, feeling slightly guilty, gathered her things and went to stand at the door of the men's restroom. She knocked hesitantly. "Jace?"

A pause. "What?"

"Is anyone else in there with you?"

"No."

Clary glanced behind her to make sure no one was watching. She pushed the door open just wide enough for her to squeeze through and then she let it shut. Jace was standing at the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. His expression, Clary noted, was one of contempt. For Simon, or for himself? Clary walked over to him. "Are you okay?" she asked, leaning her back against the linoleum counter.

Without looking at her, Jace nodded. That's when she caught sight of the dark bruise already forming on his upper cheekbone. She gasped. "Jace! Your cheek!"

He quickly looked away from her. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"You're my date for Thursday, of course I'm going to worry about it. I don't want to wear purple to match that giant ugly bruise on your cheek," she said, grabbing a paper towel and running it under the cold water.

Jace laughed at that and watched as she hopped up on to the sink, swinging her legs over the edge. "Come here," she said.

He obeyed, and watched her through hooded eyes as she pressed the paper towel to his cheek. He didn't even flinch. Clary suddenly became conscious of herself. She was wearing a navy blue tshirt, ripped jean shorts, and beat up old, red Converse high tops. She was very aware of his nearness and had to force herself to remain where she was, to keep herself from leaning into him completely. She wondered if he felt the same way about her. _How ridiculous_, she reprimanded herself. "You should go home and get some ice on that," she said aloud.

Jace nodded and pressed his hand against hers, which was still held to his cheek. She blinked in surprise, working very hard to ignore the spark of electricity his touch had sent racing through her arm. She cleared her throat and peeled her hand off of his face. "I'd better get home," she said quickly. "My mom will have seen Simon walking home alone and she'll be wondering where I am."

She hopped off the sink and practically ran out of the bathroom, leaving Jace alone to stare after her, leaving the coffee shop and calling a taxi. She hopped in the car and shut the door, finally breathing a sigh of exhilarated relief. _What on earth is happening to me?_

* * *

**Wow! I did NOT intend for that chapter to be that long, but…whatever! :D**

**Jace: So…why did Simon punch me again?**

**Me: Because you're taking Clary to the dinner party as your date.**

**Jace: Oh yeah…so where's my stele?**

**Me: You don't have one…you're a mundane in this story, remember?**

**Jace: WHAT?!**

**Me: *rolls eyes* Enjoy the easy life while you can, Jace.**

**Jace: *runs to his bathroom and hops into the shower, trying to scrub all the mundane-ness off his body***

**Me: WELL NOW YOU'RE JUST NAKED, AND EVERY FANGIRL READING THIS CAN SEE YOU.**

**Anyway. Remember to review! No review, no sneak peek! AND SEND IN YOUR OC'S PLEASE. I NEED THREE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. I am as radiant as the sun.**

_**Katniss Everdeen, The Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins)**_

* * *

Jace was waiting for Clary at her locker when she got there Thursday morning, leaning calmly against the row of tall boxes as if it was something he did every day, a faint purple bruise still visible on his cheek. She eyed him. "It's a good thing I got to your face when I did. Or your pretty features would be graced with a giant black spot. That's not something you want to show off here, when you're brand new.

Jace smirked and opened her locker for her, pounding his large fist into the cold blue metal just above the faded black lock. "Thought you'd need some help with your locker."

"Thanks," she muttered begrudgingly. She winced as the locker creaked and groaned with the weight of her AP US History textbook. She sighed and drew out her Pre-Calculus notebook, shoving it unceremoniously into her messenger bag. Jace slammed her locker shut, earning them curious stares from the hallway.

Clary ducked her head and began weaving through the crowd of preoccupied teenagers before they could start talking about her, as they usually did. The queer, crazy, red-headed girl who spent all her time drawing pictures and ignoring everyone. Even her best friend.

She swallowed hard, keeping her eyes on the shiny tiled floors of the school. Simon. Guilt welled up in her chest. She'd completely disregarded his feelings because she'd been melting under the heat of Jace's odd, yet beautiful golden eyes. A mini scale appeared in Clary's mind's eye. It was the old Roman kind, iron and beautifully crafted by hand. Jace's eyes appeared on one side, and Simon appeared on the other, whole and looking at her with love in his eyes. The choice _should _be obvious. A pair of eyes as opposed to a whole person. And yet, Clary still found herself leaning toward Jace's leonine eyes that always seemed to entrance her.

Why were her feelings suddenly so complicated?

She escaped the throng of people and stepped into the brisk autumn air, breathing in deeply. The trees were exploding with color. They painted a globular sunset. Some were a soft, burnt orange. Some were a bright, sunny yellow. Some were a deep purple (reminding Clary of the bruise Simon gave Jace). Some were brown and crackly-looking—the exact kind Clary loved to step on, just to hear the satisfying crunch under her shoes.

Across the lawn, seated at a concrete picnic table with two other kids, a boy and a girl, was Simon. He looked bored out of his mind, his shoulders hunched up around his ears. He wore a light brown corduroy jacket and some sort of graphic tshirt that Clary couldn't read. He was absently tracing patterns on his dark blue jeans, his Converse-clad foot tapping out an irregular beat. Clary watched him for a while.

He looked up suddenly and saw her. She smiled and waved. He began to raise his hand to wave back and then frowned, dropping his hand and looking away as if the sun hurt his eyes. Clary frowned. Was he really that mad at her?

"God, Clary. The least you could do is wait for me," came a voice.

Oh.

Clary turned around and grimaced at Jace. "You have the worst timing of anyone I know."

He raised an eyebrow. "I beg to differ. It actually appears that I have the best time of anyone you know."

Clary glanced back at Simon. "You're alienating my best friend from me. You call that good timing?"

Jace smirked and slipped his hands into the enormous pockets of his black leather jacket, looking past her to Simon. "I call that perfect timing." He pursed his lips. "Seriously, though. How can you call him your best friend? Aren't friends supposed to respect each other's choices? He punched me simply because you chose to go to the dinner party with me tonight. That's not very respectful."

"He punched you because you were being an A-class jerk," Clary retorted, still watching Simon wistfully. She saw Jace's point, though. She didn't want to. Simon was normally very calm, and he did respect her decisions. Unless they were stupid ones and he thought she would end up hurt. Would Jace hurt her? She turned back to Jace and looked off to the side, watching her breath dissipate into the chilly air.

She looked up into Jace's face, locking her knees forcefully. "Look," she said. He looked down at her, almost close enough for her to kiss him if she wanted. She shook her head quickly, to clear her mind. Jace smirked again. "This isn't an…an actual date, is it? I mean, I'm just going with you because you have to bring someone with you, right?"

She thought she saw a flash of disappointment flare up in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly that she couldn't be sure if she was just imagining it. He shrugged. "Sure, if you want it to be."

"I do."

With that, she hurried away, hooking her thumbs in her belt loops.

* * *

Clary had nearly made it to the bathroom at lunch before Simon cornered her. She looked at him guiltily. "Simon…Look, about yesterday—"

"Yeah. Let's talk about yesterday."

Clary hunched her shoulders over. "Just let me use the restroom and then I'll eat lunch with you and we can talk, okay?"

Simon nodded and stationed himself outside the door of the girls' room, glaring angrily at everyone who gave him an odd look.

Clary ducked into the bathroom, letting the door swing shut. Before she left her stall, however, she caught her name in one of the girls' conversations.

"Yeah, that's the girl, Clary."

She pressed her ear to the crack.

"What did he say he was going to do to her tonight?"

"I don't know exactly. I just heard that he was going to make her life miserable and embarrass her in front of the whole school. It'll be hilarious."

"Well, I'll be sure to have my phone out and ready."

The girls laughed and left the bathroom, leaving Clary alone in the stall, shaking nervously. With trembling hands, she unbolted the lock and fled from the bathroom. Simon pushed himself off the wall and moved to walk with her, but she pushed past him and ran outdoors, her messenger bag bumping comfortingly against her hip. She sped off to a tree and swung around it, facing away from the school. She leaned against it, panting heavily, and sinking down to the grass. She buried her face in her hands.

Someone sat in front of her. She lifted her head to tell Jace to go away and stop following her, and stop making her life miserable. But it wasn't Jace. It was Simon.

"What's wrong?" he asked, pulling her hands away from her face.

Clary bit her lip. "I don't know. But—but I heard…in the bathroom. I think Jace…I think he—"

Simon frowned. "Whoa. Take it slow. Start from the beginning." He rubbed her back soothingly.

Clary took a deep, shaky breath and sighed. "I was in the bathroom and I heard these two girls talking about me. I think…I think Jace is going to pull a prank on me tonight and embarrass me in front of the whole school." She knit her hands together in a worried knot.

Simon only blinked. "Are you still going, then?"

Clary thought about it. She could avoid it entirely and not go. She could go as planned and end up pranked, knowing something was going to happen but not knowing exactly what. Or… She yanked some of the stiff grass out of the ground, tossing it over her lunch sack. "Yeah. I am. And I'm still going to go with Jace. But if anything happens," she grimaced. "He'll regret it. Deeply."

Simon grinned. "That's my Clary." He took a bite of his apple. "By the way…I'm going with Isabelle. She asked me to be her date."

Clary's eyes widened in alarm and astonishment, and she yanked up another tuft of grass in surprise. "_Isabelle_ asked _you?_"

A look of hurt flickered quickly across his face. "Well, yeah. Apparently, each of them has to have a date for dinner, which is with their parents and family. And then afterwards, they have a barn, and that's where the big party's going to be."

Clary dropped the grass. "But why did she ask _you_?"

"Why did _Jace _ask _you_? I'm sure there are plenty of sluts in that school willing to go with him. Oh, wait. Maybe he just asked you so he could ruin your social life. Remember, his prank?"

Clary frowned. "Touche."

Simon rolled his eyes and bit into the crisp, juicy Gala apple again. "Speaking of Isabelle," he said, swallowing. "She wants to get you ready herself. Be prepared to be accosted by the goddess herself after school."

Clary groaned and laid back against the rough bark of the tree trunk, her jacket bunching up around her ribs. Simon laid next to her and intertwined his fingers with hers, just like they did when they were little. "Clary?"

She looked at him.

"I'm not going to let that jerk Jace hurt you without paying dearly for it. Got that?"

Clary nodded silently.

* * *

Clary didn't even try to run away when she saw Isabelle waiting for her by the school entrance, decked out in sparkling bracelets and necklaces as usual, her arms folded menacingly across her chest. She fixed her smoky eyes on Clary as she approached. "If you're going on a date with my brother, you're going to look good."

Clary had to force herself not to roll her eyes at this. She only sighed and shoved her hands into her jean pockets. "All right."

Isabelle grinned and linked her arm with Clary. "We're going to make him grovel at your feet."

* * *

Isabelle drew the black eyeliner pencil across Clary's eyelid, tipping it up at the end. She capped it, and Clary opened her eyes, blinking in the light. Isabelle had spent the past half an hour alone on Clary's makeup, forcing her to keep her eyes closed the entire time. Isabelle squealed. "Clary, you look _hot!_"

She brushed her hands off on a fuzzy pink rag that rested atop her carved, black vanity. "You want to see yourself?" she asked, smirking.

Clary nodded, and Isabelle offered her a perfectly manicured hand, pulling her up unsteadily to her feet. Clary wobbled uncertainly in her four inch heels to the mirror. She gasped when she saw herself. Was that really her? The creature that stood where Clary should have been was unrecognizable.

She was wearing a turquoise colored dress with wispy little straps that laid softly across her pale, freckled shoulders. The top curved across her chest and rounded out, making her breasts look fuller. It hugged her thin frame until it reached the bottom of her ribs, until it fountained out into a swishing, baby doll skirt. It came down to just below the tops of her thighs, almost mid-thigh, but not quite. There was a thin gold belt wrapped around her abdomen, adorned with a flower the same color as her dress. It sprouted little gold, green and turquoise ribbons that trickled down to halfway down the skirt. Clary's heels were tall and gold, and were in the same style of an old Roman gladiator. Her eyes were dusted in gold, shimmery eye shadow, the eyeliner ending in a barely noticeable cat's eye tip. Mascara lengthened her eyelashes until they were almost touching her newly waxed eyebrows (which had hurt like hell). Gold powder dusted her cheeks, mixed in with a rosy colored blush. Her hair hung down to her waist, curled softly, framing her face (for Isabelle had expertly added layers).

Clary couldn't do anything but stare. Isabelle appeared behind her, clapping her hands gleefully. "Oh, _Clary_. You look like a fairy! A sexy, powerful, _beautiful _fairy! I amaze myself sometimes."

Clary nodded silently. Isabelle had managed to make her look sexy, beautiful, powerful and innocent all at once. She wondered what Jace would think, absently fingering the soft fabric of her dress. "Thank you Isabelle," she whispered softly.

Isabelle pursed her lips. "One thing's missing."

She darted out the door and returned almost immediately with two diamond earrings and an orange. "This might hurt."

Clary's eyes zeroed in on the earrings. "Isabelle…" she said, turning around and glaring at her. "No. You are not piercing my ears."

"Yes I am. Now, you can either come here willingly, or unwillingly. I suggest willingly. It'll hurt less, and there's less of a chance for me to mess up," she said, grabbing Clary's arm and dragging her back over to the vanity.

Clary fell back into the seat, trembling. "Isabelle, I really don't think—"

"Relax," Isabelle said. "You see my ears? I pierced each one myself, which is harder to do when you can't see your own ear."

Clary tensed and squeezed her eyes shut as Isabelle held the orange up to her earlobe. A sharp, piercing pain shot through Clary's ear suddenly and she yelped. Right away, another one shot up her other ear. What if Isabelle made them uneven?

"All done," Isabelle said, stepping away from Clary. "There."

Clary looked at her newly pierced ears, two gleaming diamonds now fixed on them. "Iz…are these real?"

Isabelle nodded. "But don't worry. I haven't worn them since I was eight. You can have them."

Clary took a deep breath. Isabelle pat her on the back. "Now go join Jace downstairs. He's been texting me for the past hour, wondering if you're done yet. He wants to talk to you before Simon gets here."

And with that, Isabelle shoved Clary out of her room. Luckily, Isabelle's room was right next to the stairwell on the second floor. Clary didn't know if she'd be able to find her way around the enormous Westchester mansion by herself. She descended the stairs, stopping abruptly when she caught sight of Jace. He was wearing a black tuxedo and a turquoise tie, fiddling with the cuffs and gold buttons at the ends of his sleeves. His head was bent down, but Clary could see he'd at least patted his golden hair down. Clary understood why Isabelle had picked a dress with gold accents. The dark gold on her dress, and of her shoes, and of Jace's cuff buttons exactly matched his eyes and hair. The turquoise dress and tie transformed Clary's eyes into some otherworldly color, like a sparkling lake. They fit perfectly, like two puzzle pieces.

Jace suddenly looked up, as if sensing he was being watched, ad froze when he saw Clary. They looked at each other for a split second, neither of them moving or averting their gazes. Clary took a deep breath and stepped down the remaining stairs, her cheeks turning redder as she felt Jace's gaze piercing her own. She went to stand beside him, wishing desperately that her dress was a little longer. She tugged at the fabric.

Jace cleared his throat. "Um…You look…beautiful," he said, his voice cracking.

Clary blushed even deeper. "Thanks…so do you. I mean, handsome. You look—you look handsome," she stammered.

He cleared his throat again and held out his arm. Clary slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and let him lead her into the living room. "Jace," she said suddenly, holding him back a little. "I need to ask you something."

Jace fixed his golden eyes on her, filled with an emotion Clary was having a hard time identifying. "What is it?"

Clary glanced behind her. _Now or never._ "Are you…are you going to play a prank on me tonight?"

Jace's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What?"

Clary took a deep breath. "In the bathroom, today at school, I heard these girls talking about how someone was going to play a prank on my tonight at the party and embarrass me in front of the whole school."

Jace raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you think I would be the one pulling that prank?"

Clary stared down at her shoes. "I—I don't know…I guess…I mean, I just—"

"Look. I don't know who wants to embarrass you. But, I promise I'll do everything in my power to keep it from happening. Okay?"

Clary nodded, feeling slightly guilty for automatically thinking Jace was the culprit and mastermind. "Okay. What did you want to talk to me about?"

Jace smirked again. "I wanted you to meet my adoptive parents."

"Wow. Our relationship sure escalated quickly. First we're strangers, then lab partners, then I'm your date, and now you're taking me to meet your parents. Soon enough they'll be ringing wedding bells," Clary mused sarcastically.

Jace just laughed. "What can I say? I don't like taking these things slowly," he said with a wink, pushing open a French door set into the side of the living room.

The first thing Clary noticed was the giant oaken desk situated in the middle of the maroon-colored room, and the strong-looking man with raven hair and blue eyes seated behind it. He looked up upon their entrance, and his lips stretched into a smile that lit up his whole face. "You must be Clary," he said kindly.

A tall, thin woman Clary had only just noticed rose from a leather chair by the fireplace across the room, and walked towards Clary and Jace, smiling warmly. She held her hand out to Clary, who shook it. "Clary, how wonderful to meet you. We've heard a lot about you," she said.

Clary glanced at Jace, who looked as if he'd swallowed a spoonful of Castor oil. He'd told his family about her? Jace inclined his head towards his mother, who was joined by his father. "Clary, this is my mom and dad, Robert and Maryse Lightwood."

Clary shook Robert's hand and smiled at them both. "It's nice to meet you, too."

"Oh Jace," Maryse said, looking at her son. "Why don't you show her the garden? It's lovely right now."

Jace nodded uncertainly and drew Clary back out of his parents' study, shutting the door behind him. Clary stifled a laugh when she saw the tips of Jace's ears turn red. "Sorry," he mumbled. "They're not usually like that. If you hadn't been there, Maryse probably would have yelled at me for wearing shoes inside the house."

He led her outside and to a stone bench. They sat down on it together and Clary dropped her hand, folding her fingers together in her lap.

"You look really beautiful, Clary."

She smiled up at him. He was being so unexpectedly sweet. He even looked nervous, which was odd to watch. "Thank you, Jace. But, you said that already."

"I did?" He raised his eyebrows. "I guess I did. Sorry. It's just that it's true."

Clary looked across the gardens, marveling at the beauty of the flowers and the leaves. There were blood-red roses lining a white, gated fence. Morning glories sprouted up along a stone path, leading up to a gorgeous, white stone waterfall. Off in the distance, Clary could see a dirt path that led to an enormous red barn, bordered by a long, barb wire fence that kept at least four horses penned inside. A perfectly manicured lawn provided a colorful background for it all, atop which sat a large white gazebo. The gazebo was lined with rose veins, and the setting sun was bathing it in a warm light. And the rest of the flowers. So many flowers in so many different colors. Clary didn't know how anyone could possibly even try to take care of them.

"No one's ever called me beautiful," she said finally, not looking at Jace.

She tensed as she felt Jace's arm wrap around her shoulders, tentatively and unexpectedly. "They're thinking it, though."

She let her shoulders relax and she turned her head to look at Jace, whose face was unnervingly close to hers. "How do you know?" she said softly.

Jace lowered his eyes. "Because it's the first thing I thought when I met you. But you intimidate people. You have a power of your own." He cupped one of her curls absently in his palm, the back of his hand brushing against her side.

Clary fought the shiver threatening to run up her spine.

"Ahem."

They immediately drew away from each other and turned to look at the doorway to the house. In it stood Isabelle, dressed in a tight skirt and low cut top, and Simon, looking awkward…and furious.

Clary swallowed and stood up.

"Dinner's ready. Mom wants us all in the dining room and seated at the table before the maids put the food on the table."

Jace rose from the bench, standing next to Clary, careful not to offer her his arm in front of Simon. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the door.

They all entered the house.

_How am I going to survive tonight? And if it isn't Jace…who is it?_

* * *

**So you guys will probably be getting a new chapter very soon. Tomorrow afternoon at the latest, tonight at the earliest. I was going to put the party in this chapter, but I don't think anyone wants to read an 8,000 word chapter XD REVIEW DARLINGS. To those who sent me OC's: They will be in the next chapter!**

**To the rest of you: KEEP THEM COMING. I NEED MORE. THEY HAVE TO DO WITH THE PRANK.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Soundtrack: As Long as You Love Me- Justin Bieber**

**We Are Young- Fun **

**Somebody That I Used To Know- Gotye**

**All About Your Heart- Mindy Glendhill **

**Note: First three songs are during beginning of dance. Last song is the slow dance.**

* * *

_**No wolf falters before the bite. So strike. No hawk wavers before the dive. Just strike…No sun pauses before the set, so swing…No rain delays before the fall. Jut swing. **_

_**Rabbits, run!"**_

_**~Shannon Hale, Princess Academy**_

* * *

Clary felt strange sitting at the Lightwood's decadent dining room table, with everyone dressed to the nines and sitting stiffly in the hand-carved, velvet-backed mahogany chairs. At the head of the table was Robert, dressed in a suit and tie. On his left sat Alec, Jace, Simon and Max. On his right sat a tall, college-aged boy whom Clary could now identify as Magnus Bane, Clary, Isabelle, and a little girl with curly brown hair named Alicia. Maryse was seated at the other end of the table.

Clary pushed her salad awkwardly around her plate, glancing at Jace every so often as if to make sure he was still in front of her, still behaving properly. Or rather, to make sure he wasn't planning some prank on her. She still didn't trust him, although she felt guilty for it. Her appetite had disappeared the moment they sat down. Simon's eyes were constantly boring into her head. He hadn't looked at anything or anyone else all night and Clary had the sudden urge to snap at him. He was Isabelle's date. He should have been looking at her, not Clary.

Maryse was the one who kept the chatter flowing.

"So, Alicia. Max tells me you're in the GATE program?"

Alicia nodded her head vigorously, the red bow in her hair slipping to the side a bit. "I am. My mom says that if I keep my grades up in the program, she'll get me a puppy as a sort of end-of-the year gift in June."

Maryse beamed. "What's your talent? It stands for Gifted and Talented Education, does it not?"

Alicia nodded again, her bow slipping closer to her left ear. Isabelle's fingers were twitching. "I draw a lot. My artwork was even featured at the county fair last year," she said proudly.

Clary perked up. "I draw too," she said.

Alicia turned her hazel eyes on Clary in surprise. "You do?"

Clary shrugged. "It's how my mom makes money. I learned at a really young age. I paint a lot of landscapes. But when I draw, I draw…I draw sort of dramatic scenes. Like a prince on his horse, riding atop a cliff, avoiding the snapping alligators in the gorge below. Things like that."

Jace was watching her with interest. "That's unique," he said, his voice so lightly tinged with sarcasm that Clary almost didn't notice it.

Before she could reply with a good-natured retort, Simon pounced. "It _is _unique. She's the best artist of anyone I know. She's even better than her mom. You don't need to act as if you're superior to her. What can you do? Get into a fight?"

Clary glared at Simon, very aware of the fact that everyone was staring at him. Jace's eyes blazed, but all he did was put his hands up as if in surrender and return his attention to his salad. Maryse cleared her throat. "Are you a good artist, Clary?"

Clary turned her attention back to Maryse, and shrugged. "I'm all right, I guess. I have pictures on my phone, if you want to see." She held up her iPhone.

Maryse nodded eagerly, holding her hand out. Clary passed the phone down the table and looked back at Jace. He was watching her intently, and they locked eyes for a minute. Clary tried to send a silent message to him. _Sorry._

He nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Oh, _Clary_!" Maryse exclaimed. "You really drew these?"

Clary felt herself blush and she nodded. "Yeah, I did."

"My goodness…wow…Clary, how would you feel about painting a few landscapes for me, so I can hang them throughout the house? This place needs a little artwork. I'll pay you of course."

Clary blushed even deeper. "O—Okay. Sure. Yeah, that would be great."

She took her phone back and laid it on her lap. Isabelle shot her hand up and quickly straightened Alicia's bow. "Sorry," she said. "I'm a little OCD."

"Just a little," Alec snorted into his food.

* * *

The rest of dinner passed uneventfully, although Clary didn't eat much. The tension between Simon and Jace was almost tangible. Who's brilliant idea was it to sit them right next to each other? By the end of the meal, all Clary wanted to do was grab Jace and run out of the house before Simon could glare at them anymore.

Clary almost did exactly that…almost. As soon as Jace decided he was done and rose from the table, Clary rose also, forcing herself to stay put, to keep from grabbing his hand and bolting out the door. Going somewhere away from Simon. She could clear everything up with him in the morning, when she didn't necessarily have to spend her time with Jace. However, Maryse insisted they take pictures, and so Clary was stuck by an enormous fireplace taking pictures with the whole group, with Jace alone, with Isabelle and Alicia, with all of the guys, with Jace again. Maryse really seemed to like Jace and Clary as a pair, and was quite obvious about it, which infuriated Simon even more.

Then they walked to the barn together, and that just made everything go from bad to worse.

They kind of walked as one continuous line along the dirt path, the stars twinkling above them like diamonds scattered across a black velvet sky. Clary marveled at them. They were more beautiful now than when she'd ever seen them in her life. Then again, the only time she'd been this far away from the city was at Luke's farmhouse, and even there, the floodlights stationed along the road had obscured her vision, blocking her from a view as beautiful as the one she saw now.

She was so busy watching the stars and not the path in front of her that one of her heels caught in a tractor rut and she tripped, sending herself sprawling onto the ground. The group stopped and turned in alarm. "Clary!" Simon cried, rushing forward and kneeling next to her. "Are you all right?"

Clary blinked once in surprise and then started laughing, accepting Simon's hand and pulling herself up. She dusted off her dress as Isabelle walked towards her, shining her phone's flashlight on Clary. "Clary…after all the work I went through…" She dusted Clary off completely and fixed her hair a little. "God. How do you manage to do that?" Her mouth quirked up at the end.

Clary shrugged. Simon smiled. "Do you want me to help you? I could give you a piggy back ride if you want."

She shook her head. "No, I'm all ri—eeeee! _JACE_!"

Jace had somehow snuck up behind her and scooped her up in his arms in the middle of her sentence, surprising both her and Simon. He grinned and took off running, laughing when Clary scrambled to pull herself higher up in his arms and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "Seeya at the barn, losers!" he called over his shoulder. "You'll never see your precious Clary again!"

He laughed dramatically, and even Clary, getting over her initial surprise and fear, had to smile. Jace sprinted all the way to the barn, setting Clary down gently inside. It was pitch black inside. Jace flipped on a light, illuminating the well-decorated interior. Three black lights hung from the rafters, positioned to shine on all parts of the barn. The entire inside was painted black, and the windows were covered with blackout curtains. The floor, the walls, the black couches, the black tables, everything was covered in glow in the dark splatter paint. In each corner of the barn, someone had fixed laser lights on the walls, which would shoot green beams in different designs periodically during the dance. A projector screen was set up on the far wall, across from the enormous DJ's booth. There were stairs leading up to a loft, but the loft had curtains covering it and a giant sign screaming "KEEP OUT. NO GUEST ADMITTANCE."

Clary stared at the room. Jace stared at her. "You like it?"

She ran her hand along the table, peering into the snack-filled bowls. Muddy buddies, Cheez-Its, watermelon, grapes, brownies, cookies, candy. There were ten two liter bottles of soda standing behind the snack bowls, lined up like an armada waiting to be called to sea. Glow sticks littered the tables. Clary sighed. "It's…amazing," she managed.

She turned to find him sitting on the stairs watching her. "How did you do all this?"

He pulled himself up and walked over to her. "It was actually Isabelle's idea. Alec, Max and I spent the whole weekend painting everything black, putting up the curtains, and installing the projector screen and DJ booth. Isabelle did everything else." He laughed a little, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Believe it or not, I'm not that artistic."

"I'm sure you are in your own way," Clary offered politely.

He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. "It depends on what all you consider to be an _art_."

Clary rolled her eyes.

"Clary…can I ask you something?"

She looked back at him, puzzled. "Sure. What is it?"

"Do you like Simon?"

She blinked in surprise. "What, you mean like, _like _like him?"

He nodded and Clary bit her lip. "Well…no. He's almost like a brother to me. I can't see him in that way." She paused. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately. He's usually very sweet and fun to be around, but…I don't know. It's like you came into town and he decided to declare you his mortal enemy."

Jace laughed. "That's because he has a crush on you, and he thinks I'm trying to steal you away from him," he said bluntly, nudging her with his shoulder.

Clary looked at him sharply. "Do you really think he has a crush on me?"

Jace rolled his eyes and leaned his head back. "It's not obvious enough to you? I mean, he's on a date with the hottest girl in school and he hasn't looked at her once. The only thing he's looked at is _you_."

Clary bit her lip, the realization hitting her hard. No wonder he hated Jace. No wonder he was so quick to accuse him, so quick to jump to Clary's defense, even if she didn't need it. At that exact moment, the rest of the group piled into the barn, gasping when they saw the finished effect. Simon glared at Clary and Jace.

Jace leaned over, whispering in Clary's ear. "Told you."

* * *

Within the hour, the rest of the fifty guests invited to the party had arrived, dressed scantily and ready to dance. Magnus was the DJ of the night, and at precisely eight o clock, he electronically turned the lights off. A few screams were heard from the girls, making Clary cover her ears and bump into Jace, who caught and steadied her. She could feel both Jace and Simon practically breathing down her neck. _Does Jace like me too?_

The black lights were switched on, illuminating the room in a bright, neon glow. The kids cheered as the music started pumping loudly, congregating in the center of the floor, and beginning to jump and pulse to the beat. Jace turned and grinned at Clary. "May I have this dance?" he asked, gesturing to the floor.

Clary looked nervously at Isabelle, who had given up on Simon and was grinding against a stoned-looking senior in the middle of the floor. "I don't know… I really stink at—"

"Too bad," Jace said, grabbing her hand and dragging her out into the crowd. "Just follow my lead!" he shouted.

He began to move to the beat, fusing his body with the motions of the crowd. Clary stood awkwardly, watching him dance. He was really, really good, she had to admit. His body seemed to soften and almost liquidate as he jumped and slid and moved his arms. He noticed Clary wasn't dancing and stopped abruptly. "What's wrong?"

She looked at him sheepishly. "I can't dance."

He laughed. "Of course you can." He linked his fingers with hers and pulled her closer to him. "Close your eyes. Do it, close your eyes."

She shut her eyes obediently, letting Jace's voice and the music wash over her in a blend of perfect harmony. She could feel every pulse vibrate through her bones, each string of the melody flowing through her body.

"Feel the music. Let it take over your thoughts and your consciousness. Kind of like if you submerged yourself in a body of water, like a lake or an ocean. Let it block everything out. Focus on the music."

Clary did what she was told, feeling Jace slowly press his body tightly to hers.

"Now just move with me. Try to blend your motions into mine, so that we move as one being."

Jace's movements were so perfectly in sync with the music that Clary didn't have much trouble mimicking them. She was suddenly hyper-sensitive of everything around them. The music pounded through them, each vibration melting their bodies together. She imagined she could feel every inch of his skin pressed against hers. His fingers held onto hers tightly. He held her so close that her forehead rested on his chest, and she could hear his heart pounding steadily, beating to the rhythm of the song. Her stomach was pulsing wildly on its own, whether from nervousness or excitement, Clary couldn't tell. All she knew was that she could feel Jace's tight muscles relax as he danced. She knew that her hands fit into his perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle. She knew she was the perfect height to fit right under his chin comfortably. She knew she never tripped clumsily over his feet. She knew they'd melted into one being, like he'd said.

When the dance was over, Clary opened her eyes and saw that Jace looked just as flushed as she felt, sweat dripping down the sides of his head, the tips of his hair drenched. He grinned at her and she smiled back, panting. "See? You can dance."

They both seemed to notice that their hands were still linked, each glancing at each other. Neither of them made any move to let go. Magnus cleared his throat. "Now, for all you love birds out there…or…for anyone who just wants to keep dancing…here's _All About Your Heart_, by Glindy Medhill."

Jace drew Clary close to him again, wrapping his arms around her waist. Clary rested her hands on his shoulders and they began swaying to the sweet music. After a moment, she closed her eyes and found her cheek pressed to his chest, her arms wrapping around him more tightly. She smiled to herself as she listened to both the furious pounding of Jace's heart, and the lyrics of the music. "_Oh, I've loved you from the start. In every single way. And more each passing day. You, are brighter than the sun. Believe me when I say: It's not about your scars. It's all about your heart."_

Clary had this overwhelming sense of belonging in that moment. She wished someone had a camera, to take a picture of her and Jace dancing. Not because she wanted to look at it and reminisce. Not so she could show it off to the girls at school and try to make them jealous. But because she'd found a friend that she worked with so perfectly, and she wanted to paint it. She wanted to paint her and Jace dancing, and make all the people around them black, blurry shadows jumping in the room. Only she and Jace would be drawn in detail, their arms melting into each other's necks, shoulders, and waists.

After another minute or so, Jace relaxed completely, resting his cheek on the top of her head and bringing his right arm up so he was almost hugging her to him. They swayed comfortably, holding onto each other, feeding off each other's energy until the song was over. When it finally ended, Jace pulled back and held her gaze. "I'll be right back," he said, and he melted into the crowd.

Isabelle suddenly appeared next to Clary, breaking her out of her brief reverie. "Jesus, Clary. If you guys hadn't been wearing clothes, you would have been having sex, I swear. That's how close you guys were."

Clary smiled nervously. "That's not what it felt like…"

Isabelle clapped her on the back. "I knew my dress would do the trick. Thank me later," she said, smiling.

Suddenly, the lights went out, and the projector screen on the wall flickered to life, drawing everyone's attention. Clary heard Magnus swearing profusely. Next to her, Isabelle frowned. "What the hell…?"

An electronically modified voice came over the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen…I give you…Clarissa Adele Fray, now appearing on more than three hundred pornography sites across the web."

Every ounce of happiness seemed to flood out of Clary's mind and body as she watched in horror. She'd forgotten about the prank. An image popped up on the screen and Clary nearly burst into tears on the spot. All she could do was stand, frozen in horror, and listen to the hysterical laughter that seemed to be invading her mind. The people around her suddenly seemed like suffocating walls, their voices and laughter pressing in on her from all sides, crushing her until she couldn't breathe.

Up on the screen was a picture of her, but it had been Photoshopped. Her lips had been enlarged and the bottom lip was full and pouting. She'd been given a curvy body, and she was wearing…well…nothing. She was bent over, turning away from the camera so you couldn't see anything, but the idea came across. Whoever had done this had managed to make it look like Clary took nude pictures of herself and then Photoshopped them to make herself look like a model. They had done an excellent job.

_Jace_, she thought despairingly. _It was Jace. Jace left right before this happened._ She suddenly felt like she was going to throw up. Clutching her stomach and ignoring Isabelle, she shoved her way through the jeering crowd, ignoring their pointing and their hurtful comments, and fled. Fighting tears, she ran away from the barn, not knowing where she was going. Not back to the house. She ran in the opposite direction, into the chilly, dark fields beyond.

"Clary!" someone called. Jace.

She ignored him, choking her sobs down and holding onto herself tightly. She couldn't believe it. How could she have been so naïve? How could she have let herself trust him so easily? He'd been playing her, just like he played every girl in the school. And now look what had happened. She hadn't listened to Simon and stayed home like she should have. She'd fallen into the trap of those golden eyes and now she was sunk.

"Clary! Stop!" He was closer now, obviously running after.

She veered off into a field, blinking furiously. She sprinted as fast as she could, but it was only a matter of time before Jace caught up to her. He put on a burst of speed and jumped in front of her, grabbing her arms and slowing her to a stop. "It wasn't me, Clary. Look at me. Clary, _look at me._"

Clary shook her head furiously, struggling to get away. "Let…let me _go _Jace!"

His grip tightened. "No, Clary. I'm not going to let go. Not until to you stop fighting me and just _listen._"

That's when she broke down. She stopped struggling and just broke. The sobs she'd been holding in were released, and Jace pulled her into a tight hug. He sank to the ground, crossing his legs and pulling her onto his lap, stroking her hair soothingly. She still didn't trust him. She didn't believe he wasn't guilty, but her body was disobeying her mind. She needed to cry, and he was giving her the chance to do it.

Jace continued to stroke her hair, holding her so tightly she thought she might break in half. He was oddly tense, but she didn't focus on that too much. "Why…" she said between sobs. "W-why would you…d-do that?"

"It wasn't me. For the love of… Look," he said, cupping his hand under her chin and lifting her face to his. "I understand what you must be thinking." Something flashed across his eyes, but it was gone in an instant. "It was really bad timing on my part. But I swear to you, all I did was go to get a drink. Ask Magnus. Ask Isabelle. Ask Alec. Hell, even ask Simon, he was right…by Magnus," Jace said, realization dawning on him.

Clary pulled her face away from him and sank back into his shirt, crying harder. Her words were muffled. "S-stop l-lying! S-simon wouldn't d-do that!"

Jace was quiet for a moment. His hand never stopped moving up and down her hair. "I'm not saying I definitely know it was him. But it looks pretty suspicious when he's near the tech booth when the system gets overridden and some crazy Photoshopped picture pops up on the screen." He sighed. "I'm sorry Clary, if you thought it was me. All I can tell you is that it wasn't. I don't know how you want me to prove that."

Clary didn't respond, but she did slowly stop crying, reducing herself to the occasional sniff after a few minutes. She drew several deep, shaky breaths. Jace had taken to rubbing her back. The same thoughts flooded Clary's mind, although they weren't completely welcome this time. She and Jace fit perfectly together. He knew instinctively how to physically calm her down. How did he know that? They'd only known each other for a week and a half.

She finally looked up at him. "You promise you didn't do it?" she croaked.

He wiped her tears gently away with his thumb. "I promise." He paused. "Do you believe me?"

Clary thought for a long time before answering. She was a mess. Her dress was hiked up to the tops of her thighs, both sleeves slipping over her shoulders. Her hair was probably crazy and she knew her mascara was running down her face in streams. Jace stroked her shoulders absently. Clary took a deep breath. "Yes and no. I believe that you didn't do it. But I don't believe it was Simon. I think you just don't like him."

Jace cracked up. "Good enough for me. And he was right," he said, helping Clary to her feet.

"About what?" she asked, tilting her face towards him.

He closed the gap between them and Clary prayed silently that he couldn't see the rapid rising and falling of her chest. Or maybe he'd attribute that to the crying. Either way, she hoped he didn't notice. Jace leaned down so that their faces were inches apart, taking her hands in his. "About me trying to take you away from him," he whispered.

Clary closed her eyes and stood on tiptoe, leaning into him. Without warning, he was ripped from her hands and someone else took his place. Confused, she tried to stop herself, but it was too late. She kissed someone. Her eyes flew open, locking gazes with a pair of crooked glasses. She squeezed them shut and tried to pull away, but the boy held onto her tightly. She screamed in the back of her throat and finally pushed him away. "Simon!" she yelled furiously. "What the _hell _was that?"

Jace had just scrambled to his feet, bewildered, looking from Simon to Clary. Simon wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "There was no way I was letting your first kiss be with _him_," he said, casting a furious glance at Jace and spitting on the ground.

Jace's eyes widened. "That was your first kiss?"

Clary didn't say anything. She felt hot tears burn the backs of her eyes…again. She glared at Simon.

Simon took a step forward. "Come on, Clary, are you that blind? I've been in love with you for _ten years_. I deserved your first kiss! Not some bastard who comes waltzing into our city and sweeps you off your feet in less than two weeks. Ten years, as opposed to two weeks."

Clary's hands were trembling. Unable to control herself or her emotions, she whipped her hand furiously across Simon's cheek, grimacing as she heard the satisfying, loud _crack_! Simon stepped back in shock, holding his hand to his cheek. "That was for Photoshopping my picture, stealing my first kiss, and _not respecting my decisions_!" she cried angrily, and for the second time that night, she turned on her heel and fled, Jace close behind her.

When they reached the barn, everyone had left except the Lightwoods. Isabelle rushed over to Clary when she and Jace entered. "Oh my god, Clary, are you all right?"

Clary shrugged. "I'll be fine."

Isabelle furrowed her brow. "Where's Simon? I sent him after you guys to see if you were all right, but…" She noticed Jace's grim expression. "Oh. Oh jeez, I'm sorry. Wow. What a buzz kill," she muttered stalking off.

Jace stepped in front of Clary. "Are you honestly okay?"

Clary shook her head almost imperceptibly, but Jace understood. He enveloped her in his arms once more and sighed, resting his chin on the top of her head. "What a rough night."

They stayed like that until Isabelle came back into the barn. "I kicked Simon off the property. He's on his way home," she said. "It was him, wasn't it?"

Clary nodded miserably. Isabelle pulled her away from Jace, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "Come on. We're having a slumber party tonight, and we're not going to school tomorrow."

**PHEW. THAT WAS ONE HECK OF A CHAPTER. What did you guys think? Did you like it? SHARE THIS WITH HUNDREDS OF YOUR FRIENDS AND ILL GIVE YOU COOKIES. ON TUMBLR. ON TWITTER. ON FACEBOOK. WHATEVER. JUST SHARE IT AND REVIEWWWWWWWWW AS ALWAYS! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Soundtrack: All I Want is You~ U2**

* * *

"…_**I know I won't turn into a sobbing, convulsing mess one day…I refuse to."**_

_**~Forbidden, by Jordyn Oneill**_

* * *

Clary hung upside down on Isabelle's bed, waiting for her newfound friend to come out of her bathroom. Isabelle pushed the door open, drying her hair with a towel. Her eyes widened as she saw Clary. "Clary. What are you still doing in here?"

Clary furrowed her brow, confused. "You asked me to sleep over, remember?"

"Well, yeah, but not in here. We have a sleepover room. It's really cool, actually. Jace and I designed it together. I mostly designed it, but Jace had some say in the more…masculine things," she said, frowning at a split end.

Clary pulled herself upright using one of the posts on the headboard as a pull-up bar. She flipped around to face Isabelle. "Where is it?"

Isabelle tossed her wet hair over her shoulder, spraying the mirror behind her with water. "Down the hallway, seventh door on the left."

"Meet you there," Clary said, grateful for the escape from the shockingly pink, shiny room.

Clary padded down the hallway curiously. The walls had recently been painted, she could tell. She could smell the new paint wafting under her nose, breathing an artistic familiarity into Clary's mind. She relaxed a bit and began absently stroking the fabric of her party dress. The hall was unlit, so Clary looked for the door by running her hand against the cool walls, feeling the delicately carved oak doors under her callused fingers. _One…two…three…four…five...six…_

Clary's heart skipped. Did Isabelle say the sixth door, or the seventh? Sixth. She said sixth, right? Clary hoped so. Taking a deep, breath, she turned the knob and walked into the room behind the sixth door.

It wasn't a 'sleepover' room. It was a bedroom. The occupant must have been a neat freak, because the room was spotless. The gray sheets and black blankets were folded and tucked into the bed with perfect hospital corners. The oaken furniture was shiny and polished. The walls were gray, and the windows were un-smudged. The carpet was pure white, and two picture frames stood on the nightstand. Clary walked over to them, curious.

One depicted the Lightwoods: Robert, Maryse, Alec, Isabelle and Max. They were all smiling with their arms around each other, at a restaurant, Clary guessed. The other photo was of a young-looking couple. The boy was tall and confident, his deep blue eyes familiar-looking and threatening at the same time. His mouth was quirked up at the end in a sarcastic smile, and he had his arm slung around the girl's shoulders, pulling her into his side tightly. The girl was smiling sweetly, her arms wrapped around the boy's waist, and her blue eyes shining. She also had blond hair, and it fell to her waist. Clary picked up the frame, furrowing her brow.

"My real parents," came a voice.

Clary nearly dropped the picture in surprise. She turned to the voice and swallowed hard. It was Jace, leaning in a doorway she hadn't noticed before, steam drifting out into the room. He wasn't wearing anything, save for the towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist. She could see the V of his hip bones, the towel riding uncomfortably low on his body, for Clary's taste. She took in his tanned abdominal muscles and his golden, wet hair, droplets of water dripping down his neck and pooling on his shoulders before trailing down his arms and chest. She cleared her throat. "I-uh…I…sorry. Wrong room. I was, um…looking for a different…one," she finished lamely.

Jace smirked and walked toward her, effectively making her heart speed up and pounding in her ears. She watched him move silently across the carpet, slightly awed at the way his muscles contracted and relaxed as they moved, working like a perfectly oiled machine. Her fingers itched. He slid the picture from her hands and looked wistfully at it. "They died when I was about ten."

Clary tore her eyes away from his chest at that, looking into his golden ones. "Oh my god," she said, caught off guard again. "I'm so sorry."

He shrugged and set the frame back down. "Don't be. It's not your fault." He smiled at her. "Besides, if I hadn't been an orphan, I never would have met the Lightwoods. I'd be living in California, still." Their gazes locked. "I wouldn't have met you."

Clary swallowed again, trying to will her hands to stop trembling. He was so close to her. Their bodies were almost touching, and she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. She shivered a little. Jace frowned. "Why are you still in your dress?"

Clary shrugged. "I'm not actually sure. I guess I never got around to asking Isabelle for something else to wear."

He moved away from her and crossed the room to his dresser, opening a middle drawer. "Here, borrow some of mine." He tossed a blue shirt and some black sweatpants to her and she caught them. He took out some clothes for himself. "They're probably more comfortable than Izzy's pajamas anyway." He laughed. "I swear, sometimes I think the only reason she wears pajamas to bed is so if some guy shows up in her room, she can entice him into taking them off of her."

Clary smiled a little. "Thanks," she said, darting into his bathroom and locking the door.

His bathroom was spotless and organized, and it smelled exactly like him. The dampness from his shower still hung in the air, and Clary breathed it in. She realized unhappily that she couldn't take her dress off by herself. She sighed, exasperated, and cracked the door of the bathroom open. "Jace?" she asked tentatively through the crack.

"Yeah?" came the answer.

"Are you decent?"

A pause. "It depends on what you mean by decent."

Clary could hear the laugh on his voice and she rolled her eyes. "Is it safe for me to come out?"

"I'm not naked."

Clary pushed the door open and almost ran back into the bathroom. He'd only changed into his boxers, revealing more than what she'd seen when he was in a towel. He smirked again. "You know, that dress is really pretty and all, and you look almost as good as me, but it can't possibly be as comfortable as my jammies."

She clapped a hand over her eyes. "I need you to undo my dress."

"Excuse me?" came Jace's surprised voice.

She dropped her hand and looked at his face, forcing her eyes to refrain from traveling over his body. "I can't get out of my dress by myself," she said quietly. "I need you to help me."

Jace was by her side in a matter of seconds, and her pulse skyrocketed again. "Your wish is my command, my lady," he said in a low voice.

"It's a corset back, so you have to untie the bow and pull the ribbon out," she said, turning her back to him. "Slowly, or my dress will fall down," she added, throwing him a sharp glance.

He laughed a little, and she pulled her hair aside for him. She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard a barely audible, sharp intake of breath escape his lips. His fingers began to undo the knot, his breath blanketing Clary's neck with warmth. She hoped he couldn't feel her heart through her back. Every time his fingers pressed against her spine, she forced herself to repress a shudder. He finally got the knot undone and began threading it out of the golden loops that traveled all the way down her back until they rested just above her butt. Jace's fingers seemed to find excuses to touch her every time they passed near, and when he finished untying her dress, they lingered on the small of her back. He cleared his throat. "All done," he said unevenly.

Clary escaped into his bathroom, muttering a small "Thanks," as she went.

She shimmied out of her dress and slipped his clothes on, inhaling deeply as the shirt passed over her head. His clothes smelled fresh and clean, like him, and they were soft and warm. She used his sink to wash all the makeup off, burying her face in his towel and lingering there for a moment after she dried it off.

She slipped out of his bathroom, the dress draped over her arm, and saw Jace fully dressed, sprawled out on his bed, reading a thick novel bound in a leather cover. He looked up at her, watching her silently for a moment. He sat up and closed the book, placing it back in the drawer of his night stand. He grinned. "You look almost as good as I do in those clothes."

She smirked back. "One of the benefits of being a girl. You can look good in girl's and guy's clothes. However, if you, Jace, were to wear my dress, I'm sorry, but you would look hideous."

"Want to find out?"

"No!" she exclaimed, hugging the dress to her chest as he rose from the mattress and padded over to her. "This won't even cover your—"

"Exactly." He smirked, playing with one of her curls.

She swatted his hand away and ducked under his arm. "Do you mind if I leave my dress in here?"

Jace shook his head. "You can leave it over there," he said, pointing to an area with a shelf of old-looking books and a newly upholstered leather chair. She draped her dress over the back of the chair, and turned to leave.

But Jace had blocked her way, again, and was now looking down at her with concern in his eyes. "Hey, I'm sorry about what happened earlier tonight. I didn't know anything about it."

Clary sighed. "Don't worry about it. Stuff happens. It wasn't your fault, I know, I get it. I don't really want to talk about it. There'll be enough time for that at school on Monday."

"So you're not going to school tomorrow? You're staying here?"

"Yeah."

Jace nodded understandingly. "Well, then, neither am I."

Clary smiled. "That's sweet. I'm sure it's such a sacrifice for you to ditch school," she said sarcastically. She crossed the room and had her hand on the knob when he called to her again.

"Was that really your first kiss?"

Clary turned in surprise, feeling a blush flood her face. "Uh…yeah," she stammered.

She thought she saw Jace frown a little as he walked towards her.

"Would you have kissed me if he hadn't gotten in the way?" Jace was now towering over her, his hair still dripping slightly. A droplet of water landed on her cheek and he wiped it absently away.

Clary swallowed, her hand slipping from the door. "Y-yes," she said quietly.

They locked gazes for a moment, and then the next thing Clary knew, his lips were pressed against hers. She gasped a little in the back of her throat, surprised as his arms wrapped around her waist. She sighed into his mouth and relaxed, wrapping her own arms around his neck and tangling her fingers in his damp, golden hair. She let her eyelids flutter shut and she was consumed by him. She let him deepen the kiss, sighing again when he threaded his own hands through her hair, pulling her closer into him. His heart hammered with hers, each trying to break out of their own bodies and join with the other. Clary again felt like she was melting into him. If she were to draw this moment right now, she would draw the back outlines of two people, a boy and a girl. However, the insides of the two people would blend together as one whilst they kissed.

Jace's tongue slipped into Clary's mouth, and for a moment, she froze. This was very unfamiliar territory for her. She'd at least kissed her mom on the lips when she was little, but she'd never had someone else's tongue join her own in her mouth. Jace knew what he was doing though, and Clary relaxed again as his tongue encouraged her own. He explored her mouth until she became brave enough to entangle her tongue with his. After a couple of minutes, Jace pulled back and drew Clary closer to him, her head resting on his chest, her arms having encircled his own waist. They were panting and holding onto each other tightly, Jace's hand stroking Clary's hair, his other pressing her to him on the small of her back.

"Let's pretend that that was your first kiss," he murmured into her hair in a throaty voice.

Clary could only nod.

* * *

Jace had decided to join Clary and Isabelle in the 'sleepover' room for the night, unwilling to let Clary out of his sight after they kissed. They entered the room together, hands entwined, faces flushed, and eyes bright. A smile played around each of their lips, the kiss shared earlier lingering on each of them like footprints in the sand. Isabelle was waiting for Clary in the room already, and upon their entrance, she whirled furiously.

"God, Clary, did you fall down a hole or some—Oh my god." Her eyes widened at the sight of the two of them holding hands.

Jace smirked. "What's wrong, Iz?"

Isabelle looked like she might throw up. Clary blushed. "Sorry, Isabelle."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Whatever. No kissing in front of me. I don't want to see it, I don't want to hear it. Get it?"

"Got it."

"Good."

Jace pulled Clary over to one of the couches, sitting down and pulling her onto his lap. She wrapped her small ankles around his muscular calves, leaning back against his chest. He laid his cheek on top of her head. Isabelle rolled her eyes at them. "Your relationship sure escalated quickly," she muttered, shoving a DVD into the giant TV that occupied almost the entire length of the far wall. Clary had never seen a TV that big before.

"You're the one who put me in the dress. What was it you said? 'We're going to make him grovel at your feet'?"

Jace blinked and then laughed. "Nice one, Iz."

Isabelle scowled, pressing a button on the DVD console and striding over to a couch to the right of the one Jace and Clary were occupying. "The goal wasn't for you two to fall head over heels for each other like a couple of disproportional puppy dogs. The goal was for you, Jace, to be chasing after her."

Jace smirked. "I did chase her. But I caught her fairly quickly." He laughed again. "The dress definitely helped. I got to take it off of her."

Clary blushed furiously. "No, he didn't. He undid the ribbon for me," she clarified.

"Same thing," Jace muttered, laying down and pulling Clary with him.

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Okay, shut up, the movie's starting."

* * *

Clary stayed contentedly in Jace's arms for the entire movie. As they grew more comfortable with each other, they became wrapped around each other more and more tightly until Clary was sure that if they got any closer they'd have to share clothes. Jace was constantly playing with her hair, and Clary had both hands entwined with his. They had both wrapped their legs around each other, and their hearts were beating in perfect sync. Isabelle occasionally shot them dirty looks, but each look got softer and softer until her final look was one of approval. Clary smiled to herself and leaned back so that her head rested in the crook of Jace's neck.

When the movie was over, Isabelle got up and yawned, stretching with the grace of a long, black cat. She looked at Clary and Jace, who hadn't moved an inch, and sighed. "Well…if you're going to steal my new friend from me, _brother_, I'll take it upon myself to dole upon you the words of a parent. No sex," she said, wagging a finger at them and disappearing into the hallway.

Clary blushed again and she could feel Jace's chest shake in silent laughter. Jace sat up and slipped her from his lap onto the couch. He stood up and turned around, holding his hand out to her. She took it and he pulled her up. "Come on," he said. "I want to show you something."

They walked out of the room and down the hall, past his room, past Isabelle's room, and down the stairs. Jace kept his hand linked with Clary's, guiding her along the pitch black hallways as they made their way to the first story. "Sorry," he whispered when Clary skipped a stair and collided with his back, squeaking in surprise. "Maryse took out all of the old light fixtures because she doesn't like them, and we're waiting for the new ones to arrive."

After that, Clary kept her arms wrapped around one of Jace's. He led her outside, and she shuddered, remembering the night's earlier events. He glanced at her and squeezed her hand in understanding and reassurance. They entered the barn, and he stood behind her. It was a mess. Cups were all over the floor, glowsticks were broken and splattered against the walls, the snacks had been spilled out onto the table. Jace let go of Clary's hand and crossed to the DJ booth, pressing a few buttons until a song came on. Clary smiled and started swaying to the music until Jace joined her, taking her hands in his. He placed her hands on his shoulders, and wrapped his arms around her waist. They began dancing, alone, in the relative dark. Two of the black lights were still on, so everything around them glowed softly. Jace laid his cheek on the top of her head, still dancing with her. "I never got to finish dancing with you," he whispered.

Clary leaned into him, smiling. "You don't have to ever finish, if you don't want to."

Jace laughed a little at that, stroking her hair. "I don't want to," he murmured.

_You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold  
__You say you want your story to remain untold__  
But all the promises we made__  
From the cradle to the grave__  
When all I want is you__  
You say you'll give me a highway with no one on it__  
A treasure just to look upon it__  
All the riches in the night__  
You say you'll give me eyes in a world of blindness__  
A river in a time of dryness__  
A harbour in the tempest__  
But all the promises we make__  
From the cradle to the grave__  
When all I want is you__  
You say you want your love to work out right__  
To last with me through the night__  
You say you want diamonds on a ring of gold__  
Your story to remain untold__  
Your love not to grow cold__  
All the promises we break__  
From the cradle to the grave__  
When all I want is you__  
You__  
All I want is...you__  
All I want is...you__  
All I want is...you_

The song ended and Jace held Clary tightly in the darkness. Clary again had the feeling of belonging wash over her like a tidal wave. There wasn't anything in this world. Nothing. Nothing but her and Jace. Her heart pounded when she thought unhappily of possibly losing him. She couldn't do that. She couldn't lose him. It wouldn't happen. She wouldn't let it happen.

After a moment, Jace took Clary's hand again and led her upstairs, into the room that said "No Admittance." Clary stood awkwardly by the blackout curtains, unable to see anything, and too apprehensive to move when Jace let go of her hand. There was a loud ripping sound and the room suddenly flooded with light. Jace stood to the side, folding a blue tarp, and grinning at her. The ceiling was gone and Clary could see every star in the dark sky, the moon shining a beam of light over the barn. There was a large, California king-sized mattress in the center of the room, complete with large, fluffy blankets and four enormous feather pillows. Jace discarded the blue tarp in the corner of the room and grabbed Clary's hand. Getting a running start, he leapt onto the mattress, dragging Clary with him. She landed awkwardly on top of him, gasping in surprise and then laughing. She grabbed one of the pillows and smashed it into his face, causing him to splutter and roll over, making her fall off of him. She laughed as he sat up and took another pillow, swinging at her. She jumped up off the mattress, but not quickly enough. The pillow slammed into her side.

She began to randomly hit out at him with the pillow, only landing a hit a few times, as most of the time he was either blocking the pillow with his own, or hitting her with it. They were both laughing breathlessly, and Clary finally tossed her pillow at him and ran away. Jace jumped up and caught up to her in seconds. He cornered her and placed both hands on the wall over her head, leaning down. "Got you." He smirked.

Clary smiled back sweetly, relaxing. Then she ducked quickly under his outstretched arm and sped off to the other side of the room before he could regain his composure. "Don't underestimate me just because I'm small," she scolded, pointing a finger at him.

Jace laughed. "Lesson learned."

He chased her around the room, before finally tackling her down onto the mattress. They lay there, laughing breathlessly in each other's arms, their skin glistening with a little bit of sweat. Clary sighed, still smiling, and kissed Jace on the cheek, surprising him. He kissed her forehead in return, grabbing a blanket and pulling it over them. Clary could feel the warmth of Jace's body flooding over her, comforting her. She turned onto her back, careful to keep herself in the circle of his arms, and stared up at the sky. He did the same, his hand resting on her stomach, his thumb stroking back and forth comfortingly.

"I've never been able to draw the sky," she mused quietly. "Well, I mean I have drawn the sky, but never at night with the stars. I can't draw the stars."

"You could steal some of Isabelle's rhinestones and use them as stars," Jace suggested.

Clary thought about it. "That's a thought…"

"Clary?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you make me a drawing, instead of a painting? I want something that comes from _your_ heart, from _your _mind. I don't want something my mother makes you paint," he said, burying his face in her neck.

Clary closed her eyes and brought her hand up to stroke his hair. "Of course."

She paused for a while, a question on the tip of her tongue. She didn't know whether or not to ask it, and she didn't want to pry. But she was curious. She had to ask. "How did your parents die?" she whispered.

Jace tensed under her, his breath hitching. He turned his face towards her, his golden eyes glowing dangerously. "Why do you want to know that?"

Clary swallowed. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me. I—I get it. I was just curious."

Jace didn't say anything, but buried his face back in her neck. She took a deep breath. "My dad died too." Jace's breath hitched again. "I mean, I still have my mom. But my dad's gone. He died when I was nine. So, about the same time your parents died. I kind of know how you feel."

There was another long pause. Jace leaned his head back against the pillows. "They were murdered while I was asleep. I came downstairs in the morning, expecting to see my dad watching old sixties cartoons and eating a plate of eggs and my mom cooking breakfast for me, like I always did. Instead, I found them lying on the floor in a lot of blood. They—their—" His voice broke momentarily. His body was more tense than Clary had ever felt it, and she wondered if he would break into a million little pieces, leaving her with no more Jace. "Someone…someone had…decapitated them." He choked.

Clary froze in horror. She couldn't say anything. What was she supposed to say? That she was sorry? That she thought his life sucked? What did you say to something like that? How did you comfort the victim of such an atrocity? She turned and buried her own face in his neck, squeezing his hands tightly, a sign of reassurance, a sign that she would comfort him.

Jace took a deep breath. "How did your dad die?"

Clary paused, a million things flashing through her mind's eye. She saw her dad lying still on the couch. She saw herself shaking her dad, trying to wake him up. She saw the vomit all over her parents' bathroom. She saw herself scream helplessly when her dad didn't wake up. She saw the coroner pronounce him dead. She saw the police frown in confusion. Clary squeezed her eyes shut. "Arsenic poisoning," she said finally. "My dad was also murdered, but…"

"…The police shelved the case," Jace finished for her. She looked up at him in surprise, and he smiled ruefully. "The same thing happened with my parents. They never found the murderer."

Clary sighed and sank back into him, blinking back the hot tears threatening to spill over her eyelashes. Jace held her so tightly, she thought she might break.

"It'll be all right," he whispered. "You have me. You'll always have me. Don't forget that."

They slept wrapped in each other's embraces that night, each guarding the other from the usual plague of nightmares accompanying the horrific memories of their parents' deaths.

* * *

**Wow. I feel like that was a little much… But I had to make sure Jace was really scarred, because it's really important that he's a little…off later in the story. Who killed their parents? I hope you guys liked the fluff :) I loved writing it :) READ AND REVIEW MY LOVES. UNTIL LATER THIS WEEK.**


	6. Chapter 6

"'_**What is it you smell of? It's warm and cool and sweet, all at the same time!"**_

_**~The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett**_

* * *

Clary woke up the next morning to complete darkness, which was slightly disorienting, because she could feel the sun's warm rays flooding over her body and seeping into her skin. She could feel some sort of thick blanket wrapped around her, keeping her small feet warm, and draping gently over her back up to the crook of her neck. The air smelled of something fresh and clean, and she inhaled deeply, coughing when she got a mouth full of fabric. She realized with a shock that someone's arms were wrapped around her tightly, and she lifted her head up quickly.

Clary blushed when she saw Jace's sleeping form, his head turned to the side, his lips slightly parted. She relaxed as she realized that he was the one with his arms wrapped around her, and she had her own hands fisted in his shirt, holding onto him tightly. She was essentially laying on top of him, and she could see the red marks on his skin where she had buried her face into his neck. She sighed and laid her head back down on his chest, not removing her hands from his shirt, but holding onto him tightly.

Sunlight flooded the barn loft where they had slept, and Clary could see the dust motes dancing along in the air, destined to settle somewhere and then get up and dance again at the slightest movement of a breeze. There were about three blankets on top of her and Jace, each one warm and fluffy. She ran her hand absently on the top of them, thinking about the previous night's conversation. She craned her neck up to look at Jace. He looked so young and innocent, it was hard to believe that he'd suffered all that he'd been through.

Then again, she'd suffered almost as much, and when she looked at herself in the mirror, she didn't look like the dark, haunted heroines she so loved to draw and read about. She looked like Clary. Young, pale, red-headed girl with a temper to match. Unless you asked her about it, you would never guess that she had a dark secret that plagued her every time she went to sleep. And Jace…Jace seemed like the guy who had it all together, although Clary knew from her reading that those were the ones that were falling apart on the inside. And now she knew from personal experience. She guessed that it had taken a lot of courage for him to tell her what he did. How his parents died. How he found them. Clary swallowed. She'd thought her life was messed up… Now she wondered how Jace managed to get up every morning. His mind had to be deeply, irreparably scarred, and she wondered how she had managed to worm her way into his life so quickly. Why had he been so eager, so open? Why did he let her into his life, his mind, his heart so readily?

"Mmmmmf….Clary…?"

Clary looked back up at Jace as he slowly blinked the sleep out of his eyes and focused on her. She smiled a little. "Morning."

Jace seemed to realize that his arms were still wrapped around her and his grip tightened, pulling her even closer to him. He kissed her forehead. "I could get used to waking up like this," he murmured, bringing his forehead down so it rested against hers. He wrapped one of her curls absently around his finger.

Clary blushed, not knowing what to say. She looked down at their entwined bodies and traced patterns around Jace's tshirt, shivering a bit as his hand reached down to rest on her stomach. She sat up, making his hand effectively fall off her abdomen, and she began to slowly peel the blankets off her body, making as if to get up. "I should really go back to Isabelle," she said, her voice still groggy from sleep. "She's the one who invited me to sleep over in the first place."

"Nope," she heard Jace say, and the next thing she knew, his hand had wrapped around her wrist and was pulling her back down onto the mattress.

She squeaked in surprise and blinked in the sun, squinting as Jace's face leaned over hers, grinning mischievously. She smiled, and then squeaked again as he wrapped his hands around her ribs and pulled her up so that she was sitting sideways in his lap. He smiled up at her. "I just got you all to myself. Now, give me one good reason why I should let you out of my sight today?"

Clary opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off my Jace's lips. He'd leaned in and initiated their second kiss, and all other thoughts were pushed from Clary's mind. She let her body go somewhat limp in his arms, and she wrapped her own arms around his neck, pushing her fingers up into his silky golden hair. He moaned softly against her mouth, and cupped the back of her neck with his hand, his other getting lost in the tangled curls of her bright red hair. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, and this time, Clary was more sure of herself. More aware, more ready. Her tongue immediately met his and she sighed, her eyes fluttering closed.

Jace wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, and laid down so she was on top of him, never breaking the kiss. Their legs tangled together, and Clary wondered who in heaven was in charge of her love life, because whoever it was, they'd given her someone she didn't think she deserved. Normally, if ever she received a compliment, it was usually something along the lines of "You're adorable," or "You are so cute!" But Jace…Jace made her feel like she was the most beautiful person in the world. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way he spoke to her. She felt like she was the only girl in the world, or at least the only one he could see. What bewildered her, was the fact that she rarely got a compliment (and never from a guy), and yet the most attractive boy in the world had chosen _her_. Jace was, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen in her life. She would always be confused as to what he found attractive in her, when he could so obviously have whomever he wanted.

Jace's hands explored Clary's body, and Clary fisted her hands in his shirt. He moaned softly and she trailed her hands down his chest, playing with the hem of his shirt. She had just begun to pull his shirt up over his head, wanting to touch his skin, unobstructed, when they were both startled by a high-pitched shriek from the doorway.

"JACE WAYLAND! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO HER?"

Clary squeaked in surprise and rolled out from under Jace, smoothing her hair down. Jace got up lazily, grinning crookedly at Isabelle, whose shocked, angry form loomed over them. "Not half the things I was _going _to do, now that you've so kindly graced us with your presence," he said, with a dramatic wave of his hand.

Clary suppressed a grin, sitting up next to him. "Relax, Iz, we were just kissing."

She folded her arms, smirking. "What would _Simon_ think?" she taunted.

Jace and Clary both tensed. Isabelle cracked up. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. You should see your guys' faces."

Jace responded by wrapping his arms tightly around Clary and smirking again. "Watch out, Iz, your jealousy is showing."

Isabelle narrowed her eyes. "My jealousy?"

"Your jealousy." Jace matched her expression. "Why don't you go after Simon yourself? Just like you did last night?" Clary could feel his laughter reverberate throughout his chest.

Isabelle drew herself up to her full height. "Is that a challenge, Jace Wayland?"

Jace's eyes widened fractionally. "Yes. Yes it is."

"Oh, Jace. You should know better than to challenge me," she said, flouncing out of the room and down the stairs, leaving Clary and Jace watching her with mingled surprise and amusement.

Clary pulled away from Jace, standing up. "Simon isn't a toy for you to play with. He's a human being."

Jace wandered over to the tarp, unfolding it. "He's not _my_ toy," he said, wrinkling his nose. "He's Isabelle's toy."

"He's my _best friend_, Jace."

"I would never play with something that pale and nerdy," he continued. "People like that have minds so steeped in emotional turmoil, it's nearly impossible to get them to have any fun without second guessing themselves."

Clary was shocked into a furious silence. Jace seemed to notice his mistake and he dropped the tarp, turning around.

"Is that what you think of me?" she said under her breath.

He walked over to her. "I didn't mean you, Clary," he said, the amusement gone from his expression. "I like your emotions."

She looked away from him, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Jace sighed and pulled her into his arms, cupping her chin and turning her face towards his. "I'm sorry I said that," he told her. "I like you a lot, Clary, and honestly, I'm not sure why." He chuckled under his breath. "You're not the type of girl I'd hook up with. I've known you for a grand total of, what, two, three weeks? It's like you've dug this little hole in my chest and decided to hang out for a while,"

Clary wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shirt. "He's my best friend, Jace."

"Okay, okay," he said, stroking her hair. "I'll make fun of him less."

Clary growled low in her throat. Jace laughed.

"I won't make fun of him anymore. Okay? Are you happy now?"

She rolled her eyes, but nodded.

* * *

Isabelle opened the front door of the giant, Westchester mansion. She wasn't used to having such a large house. In California, they'd lived in a Beverly Hills penthouse. Rich, posh, luxurious, yes, but huge? No.

"Simon," she said, masking her surprise with irritation. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Simon stood on her doorstep, a beat up-looking Honda parked behind him. He wore a stained grey t-shirt with a boom box graphic on it, and ripped old jeans, his Vans dusty and torn. He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, looking uncomfortable. "Well, Clary wasn't in first period, and it's my free period, so I went to her house, but her mom said she was here and so…here I am," he said very quickly. "I was wondering if she needed a ride to school."

Isabelle bit back a laugh, glancing behind her and remembering what she had walked in on. Seeing Jace and Clary on top of each other, making out, had been horrifying and gratifying at the same time. Horrifying because Jace was her brother and Clary was her friend. Gratifying because she knew Clary was going to be the best doctor for Jace the world had to offer. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.

"She's not going to school today," Isabelle said slowly. "She doesn't feel good from the party last night, so she's staying here with me for the rest of the day." She smiled at Simon's nervousness. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of her for you."

"Well, can I at least see her?"

"No," Isabelle replied, maybe a little too quickly. "She's…asleep."

Simon seemed to deflate. "Look…can I just tell her I'm sorry? About last night?"

_I knew that's why he's here_, Isabelle thought triumphantly. She stepped outside with Simon and shut the door behind her. "I can tell her for you."

Simon ran a hand through his hair.

"Hey…Simon…"

He looked at her.

"Don't blame yourself too much, okay? I mean, yeah, what you did was horrible, and I mean, you're lucky you didn't do that to me, because you'd be six feet under by now…But Jace is a pretentious asshole. He egged you on. You and Jace both need to apologize to Clary."

Simon didn't say anything for a while. "Why is he like that?"

Isabelle's face darkened. "Something very…disturbing….happened to him when he was younger, which is how he ended up here, with us. I wouldn't ask him about it. He hasn't even told Alec and me anything beyond what my parents have told us. It's pretty private. So stay out of it."

He sighed and shook his head, tired. Isabelle leaned against the door, waiting for him to leave. He couldn't see Jace and—

"Come on, Clary, one more kiss?"

A giggle. "No, Jace! You've already—!" Clary's sentence ended in a little squeak as Jace assumedly kissed her.

Isabelle panicked and looked at Simon, who was as read as a tomato, his fists clenched at his sides. He glared at Isabelle. "'Sleeping' my ass."

Jace and Clary rounded the corner, hands linked together. Both froze in shock and moderate horror as they saw a very angry Simon staring at them. Clary's jaw had dropped a little. "Simon? What are you doing here?"

Isabelle could see the way Jace had unconsciously drawn Clary closer to him, could see the way his muscles had tensed predatorily, the minute he saw Simon standing there. Simon unclenched his fists and re-clenched them. "You weren't in first period. I came to see if you were okay." He eyed Jace venomously. "Obviously you're more than okay."

Clary's grip on Jace's hand tightened. "I like him a lot, Simon. We have a strong connection that I don't think you understand. You're just going to have to deal with it."

Jace wasn't saying anything, which surprised Isabelle. Usually he had something very 'important' to say when people were caught in tough situations. This time, only Simon lost his attitude.

He walked up to Jace and looked him straight in the eyes, his hands on Jace's shoulders. "If you hurt her…" he nearly whispered.

And with that, he drove his knee straight up in between Jace's legs.

* * *

**Okay, kind of a weird ending to the chapter, I know. Jace gets kicked in the crotch hahahaha! GUESS WHAT. IM GOING TO DISNEYLAND TOMORROW HAHAHA. Im so excited. R AND R MY BEAUTIFULS.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Yeah. So. Sorry for the long update. It's been a little…crazy these past couple of months. But everything will be updated regularly from now on :) Terribly sorry again! Here's an intense chapter to make up for it!**

**This one's for you, my dear Gravy XD Since you insist on telling me every time I bring up fanfiction that I haven't updated in forever. Love ya!**

Jace yelped in pain and surprise and jumped back, crashing into Clary and taking her down to the ground with him by accident. She held him awkwardly in her arms, her legs twisted painfully under his body. He winced and tried to sit up, breathing deeply and covering his crotch with his hands. Clary glared at Simon.

"I'm getting really tired of this, Simon. I don't get it. Jace is not targeting you, he's not out to purposefully steal me away from you. In fact, he's not stealing me away from you. I was never 'yours' to begin with, so stop acting like a little kid and shut up! If you punish anyone, you should be punishing me. It's _my _decision, _I'm _the one who decides what to do in my life. Not you. Not Jace. Not my mom. Not my brother. Me. So stop taking it out on Jace, or I swear, you will lose me as your best friend also."

Simon's fists were clenched and his chest heaved up and down, his face pale and the wind blowing loose curls of his hair into his eyes. He glared at Jace, who was keeping his head bent in between his knees. Simon coughed. "What did he tell you, Clary?"

She furrowed her brow in confusion, wrapping her arms around Jace. "What do you mean, 'What did he tell me?'"

"I mean, what did he promise you?" Simon said, exasperated. "Did he tell you he loved you? Did he promise to stay by your side forever and always? Did he promise to be a great boyfriend, and buy you all sorts of stuff, and remember your birthday, and text you all night? Did he—"

"Simon…"

"Did he say he'd do whatever you want? Did he say he'd be respectful and loving and—"

"Shut up." It was Isabelle, and she was looking incredibly murderous. "Shut _up_, Simon. You have no idea what the hell you're talking about. You don't know Jace. You don't know what he's like, so stop talking crap about him."

Simon narrowed his eyes. "I know _exactly _what he's like," he said, pointing at the golden-haired boy, who was getting to his feet. "He's a player. He's the kind of boy who picks girls up, takes them to the top of the world and then drops them into the pits of hell. He destroys girls' emotions. He makes them feel like the only girl in the world, the only one that matters, and then he makes them feel like the dust beneath his feet. I know what kind of guy he is, and I'm _not_ going to let him make a victim out of my best friend."

Clary pressed her mouth into a thin line. "I know what I'm doing, Simon. I can take care of myself. I'm not a victim," she replied tightly.

Jace was the only one who looked unaffected. He regarded Simon with indifference, but Clary could feel his body behind her. He was as tense as a tightrope, and she was afraid that with the slightest bit of strain, he would snap. But tightropes were also flexible, able to withstand a human being. They bent with the walker, but they never broke. Jace wouldn't break.

"I'm not going to hurt her," he said calmly. "Yes, I've hooked up with girls. A lot of girls. Yes, I suppose you could call me a 'player.' And yes, if we're all wondering, I've had sex before. About five different times. But none of them mattered. I didn't even know half of their names. Clarissa's different. I would kill myself before I hurt her, before I let anything _else_ hurt her."

Clary looked at him in surprise. "You'd do that for me?"

Jace turned to reply, but was cut off by Simon's loud, harsh laugh.

"You're not saying you _believe_ him, are you?" Simon looked incredulous. "_Listen _to him, Clary! I thought you were smarter than that! Aren't you the same exact girl who sat on the couch and watched movies with me and scoffed at their cheesy romance? Aren't you the same girl who said 'Are they really that stupid? They're just going to get hurt'?"

Clary looked away from him, as if he was too bright. "Just leave, Simon. Just leave before you make things worse," she said in a quiet voice.

Jace's fists were clenched behind his back. "Give me a chance," was all he said, however. "If I hurt her in any way, she doesn't even have to give me a second one. Then you can have her, if you want." He glanced at Clary's wry expression. "If _she_ wants," he amended.

Simon laughed in disbelief again. "You won't last a month," he said.

Isabelle smirked. "You shouldn't have said that. Jace has the nastiest competitive streak of anyone I know."

Simon didn't even look at Isabelle. "Fine," he said, spitting the word out. He glared at Clary. "But don't come crying to me when he breaks your heart. I won't be there to comfort you."

He stood there, watching them, as if challenging all three of them to contradict him. Isabelle stepped up to bat. "All right, nitwit. Time to go."

Simon didn't move.

"If you don't leave, I will personally give your face a makeover, strip you naked, tie you to a chair, call the police, and tell them you tried to rape me."

They all looked at Isabelle in surprise. She was grinning from ear to ear, but there was a glint in her eyes that said she meant business. Simon turned on his heel, stalking off to his car. They watched as he slammed his car door and peeled out of the driveway, swerving violently around a stray cat as he sped off.

Clary slumped her shoulders, looking at the ground. Isabelle was watching her incredulously. "How can you be friends with him?"

Clary's gaze snapped up and she glared at Isabelle. "I've known him since we were five," she said. "He's never acted like this in his life."

Isabelle held her hands up in surrender. "Sorry, sorry." She sighed and looked at the empty road. "I'm going inside."

Once the front door closed, Jace looked at Clary, who was three feet away from him. "If you want to be with Simon," he said, looking closed off. "It's fine with me. You can go."

Clary furrowed her brow. "Did you not just hear anything I said?"

"I'm not so low as to come between you and your best friend," he said quietly. "Especially since I—" He stopped abruptly and shook his head. "If I'm going to make your other relationships too complicated…you don't have to…to be with me."

She closed the space between them so that she could feel his quickened breath ruffle her hair a little bit. "Jace," she said softly. "If I didn't want to…be with you…I wouldn't have fought with him like that. I like you. A lot. And I don't care if I wreck my relationship with Simon." She checked herself. "Well, yes, I do. But I'm not the one wrecking it. He's the one wrecking it. If he wants me to stick around as his best friend, he's going to have to change."

"So I'm supposed to just let you lose your friends because of me?"

"No." She smiled. "You're supposed to be there for me. You're supposed to be my friend if everyone else leaves."

She had her hands wrapped around her wrists and Jace looked at her, his expression unreadable, but oddly vulnerable. "What do you want me to do?"

"Kiss me."

Jace brought his hands up, resting them on her small shoulders, his thumbs brushing her collar bones and making her shiver. He looked at her through hooded eyes, his long lashes catching the bright summer sun and casting shadows on his impossibly high cheekbones. Clary held onto his wrists for support for her weak knees as he leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. He wrapped his arms around her and held her there, in the circle of his arms, deepening the kiss. "Clary," he said, a little breathless.

Clary opened her eyes and looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, she realized with surprise. "Yes?"

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

She grinned. "I thought we were going to have to say 'I'm with you' all the time." She laughed and he smiled.

"Is that a yes?"

"Of course."

**Short chapter, I know. But hey! There was a lot in it! You'll get a longer one next Saturday, I promise my loves. Review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**So this chapter (it's been five months, yeah, I know…) is dedicated to Gravy once again. Since the last chapter, she and three other kids have learned a song called Just Another Day from Next to Normal, which you should all check out. It's wonderful, and they sang it wonderfully. They should have gotten first place in finals. And uh…I really am sorry. Please text me.**

**Anyway, I'M BACK. Hopefully permanently (idk how permanently at the moment because I'm in a crap load of trouble). BUT. I have new ideas, new motivation, NEW EVERYTHING. So enjoy this FLUFFEH chapter.**

* * *

"Come on, Clary, wake up!"

Clary groaned and pushed herself up on her elbows, glaring at the smirking figure in the doorway. She blew a stray, fiery curl out of her eyes and plopped back down on the couch where she'd been taking a nap. "Why?"

Suddenly, the couch tilted, and with a scream, she rolled off of the cushions and landed on the floor in a heap. Bright, amused golden eyes popped into view and she shrieked again, which elicited a wide grin from the owner of the eyes.

"We're going on a date."

Clary rolled over onto her back and scowled up at her boyfriend. "Already? Do we _have_ to?"

Jace chuckled and offered her his hand, which she grudgingly took.

"Yes, we have to," he said, pulling her up with just enough force to send her crashing into his chest.

Sighing, she pulled away from him. "Where are we going?"

"Just to lunch. Nothing fancy, though you might want to run a brush through that hair. _I _think it looks hot, but I'm not so sure the general public will. You look like you just had sex." He smirked.

Clary reached back to the couch and chucked an embroidered pillow at him, scowling when he easily side-stepped it. "If you _want, _I can go dumpster-diving. Maybe then I'll look good enough for you."

Jace's smirk grew. "Ah, see, then I'd have to give you a bath." He leaned over her, his lips grazing her ear. "Naughty girls have to be cleaned up when they get dirty," he whispered sensually.

She shivered and pushed him away. "Oh, go away. I'll be downstairs in fifteen minutes."

"Ten."

"Twelve."

Jace rolled his eyes. "It's the little things with you, isn't it?"

Clary threw another pillow. "Just go!"

* * *

Clary looked herself over in the mirror. She didn't look as good as she had the previous night, but she supposed she looked decent enough to go on a date with her boyfriend.

_Who's only the hottest guy anyone's ever laid eyes on, _she thought wryly.

She wore an electric blue tank top with the words _Live, Love, Laugh _written across the chest in curvy silver lettering, and a long, grey cardigan. The cardigan ended at the bottom of her navy blue shorts, which were mid-thigh length. She'd finished it off her with her green Skechers, and a small necklace with her father's old wedding ring as the pendant. Her hair hung solidly in its curls from the previous night, having been hair-sprayed to death, and she'd simply cleaned up any of the makeup that smeared on her skin and left the rest on. She'd forgotten to wash it off the night before.

Sighing, she grabbed her messenger bag off of Isabelle's vanity chair and exited the brightly painted room. In the dim hallway, Isabelle was slouched up against the wall, watching her. Clary stopped in surprise. "Isabelle?"

Isabelle raised her eyebrows. "The one and only."

Clary frowned. "It is your room, you know. You could've just walked in and kicked me out."

"Last time I checked, _I _was the one who invited you to sleep over. Not Jace."

Clary felt her cheeks heat and a flash of guilt speed through her chest. "Sorry, Iz," she mumbled, looking at her shoes. "I-I guess I just got a little…carried away."

"Don't get me wrong, Clary, I like the fact that you two are dating. I think you'll be really, really good for him, and hopefully he for you. It's just…I thought I'd finally found a girl I could hang out with and be myself around, and now she's dating my brother. Just like every other girl I've tried to befriend."

"Isabelle—"

"Every girl I've ever befriended has simply used me to get to Jace, Clary. I really thought you'd be different."

Clary caught Isabelle's arm as she began to turn away. "Iz…I didn't use you. I had absolutely no intention of dating your brother when I met either of you, or even when I said yes when you asked me to sleep over."

Isabelle narrowed her eyes. "Prove it."

Clary racked her brain. _Prove it? How? _"Jace and I were going to go on a date, but I can cancel it. Tell him another day, and spend the rest of today doing whatever you want to do," she offered.

Isabelle was silent.

"I really do want to be friends with you, Iz."

Isabelle smiled. "Oh, go on your date. I believe you."

Clary grinned back. "Thanks, Izzy." She turned back down the hallway and began to walk away.

"But you owe me every school day!" Isabelle called after her.

Clary just laughed.

* * *

Jace was waiting for her by the front door of the house as she bounded down the stairs, her messenger bag bouncing familiarly against her hip. He unhitched himself from the doorframe and grinned when he saw her. He held his hand out, and she took it.

"So…where are we going?" she asked after about five minutes of walking. It was an unusually cool summer day, the wind blowing through the alleys and cooling off the carefully structured metal buildings that had been baking in the sun for three months. Clary's hair blew in her face, and Jace absentmindedly tucked a lock of it behind her ear.

"This diner called Taki's. Not many people know about it, but it's really good. I found this place the first day we moved here. Took Max with me again the next day."

"Why?"

Jace shrugged and glanced across the street, pulling her into the crosswalk. "Brother bonding time, I guess. Anyway. It's kind of my favorite place to eat. I figured you were special enough for me to take you there." He shot her a small smile.

She smiled back and leaned her head on his shoulder.

After about five more minutes' walking time, they stopped in front of a broken down looking building with a neon red sign that flashed TAKI'S. Clary looked at Jace incredulously. "_This _is your favorite place to eat?"

He grinned down at her and nodded. "Don't judge a book by its cover, Clarissa. I thought you learned that in kindergarten."

"It just…" she wrinkled her nose. "Not very impressive."

Jace just laughed and opened the door for her, ushering her inside. The diner was cozy, the walls painted in a light peach color, classic diner booths placed at intervals around the walls. Clary was surprised to see that the restaurant was fairly busy.

"Hey, Jacey."

Clary whipped her head back around to see a tall, plastic-looking blond girl leaning over the counter and looking at Jace through hooded eyes. Clary frowned, but Jace just winked at her.

"Hey, Kaelie. Can I get a booth for please?"

Kaelie didn't even look at Clary. "Sure," she said, picking up two menus and waddling out from behind the counter. Clary thought she looked ridiculous in those eight inch heels. What kind of waitress wears 8 inch heels?

They followed Kaelie to a booth near the back of the restaurant and slid in across from each other. Jace flashed the waitress another grin and winked at her. "Thanks, Kay."

"Any time, Jacey. Just let me know when you're ready." She winked back at him and flounced off.

Clary, her cheeks burning, buried herself in her menu.

"Clary?"

She didn't look up from her menu. "_Jacey_?" she replied, packing as much venom into the name as she could.

Suddenly her menu was pulled from her hands.

"Hey," Jace said, touching her chin and tilting it up. "Kaelie's harmless. She's just a flirt. It never means anything."

She pulled her menu back from him. "We've been going out for less than a day, and you're already flirting with other girls."

There was a moment of silence before Jace spoke again. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I've never been in a serious relationship before. This is all new to me."

Clary looked up at him, her expression softening. "It's new to me, too, Jace. But how would you like it if I started randomly flirting with Simon?"

Jace stiffened. "That's different."

Clary shook her head. "No, it's not. Simon's harmless, because I have no real interest in him. But my flirting with him still offends _you, _doesn't it?"

"All right. Rule number one of this relationship: no flirting with anyone of any sex, race or species. Not including each other, of course."

Clary laughed. "Jace, that's like, rule number one of _every _relationship. Unless you date a…freewheeling…_individual_."

It was Jace's turn to laugh. "A _freewheeling individual_?"

Clary shrugged, turning a bit red. "I didn't want to say 'slut.'"

Jace laughed harder. In fact, he was still laughing when Kaelie finally came back around to take their order. She smiled widely at him. "What's so funny?" she asked coyly.

"Inside joke," Clary answered for him, smiling back at Kaelie. Kaelie barely spared her a glance, but it was a cold one.

"What do you want?"

Jace stopped laughing enough to clear his throat and order. "I'll have the usual," he said with a wave of his hand. "And she'll have the same."

Clary snapped her mouth shut. She'd been about to ask what was recommended, but Jace spared her from that. Kaelie gave Jace a curt nod and another wink, before flouncing off again.

This time, Jace didn't wink back.

Clary beamed at him. "Thank you," she said.

Jace's expression was still immensely amused. "Next time she flirts, with me, we'll make her regret it."

Clary stared at him blankly.

"I'll kiss you."

Heat flared up in the pit of Clary's stomach at the thought of kissing him again. He was the only boy she'd ever really kissed, and he was the only boy she really wanted to kiss. "In public?" she whispered.

He shrugged. "Sure. I've done worse."

"You have?"

Jace had the grace to look embarrassed. "Yeah…I have."

He was silent for a moment. "I'm not a virgin…you know that, right?"

Clary swallowed her unease and nodded her head. "Well, I didn't _know_. But I suspected as much. You're very…attractive."

Jace didn't laugh again, and they sat in a somewhat awkward silence until their food came. Kaelie nearly dropped both plates on Clary's lap (on purpose, Clary thought), but eventually they were both left alone to examine their food.

Jace had ordered them something that looked like lasagna and French fries. Clary looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "Lasagna and _French fries_?"

Jace smirked. "Don't judge someone until you've walked a mile in their shoes," he said, popping a fry in his mouth.

The combination ended up being delicious, and Clary, having not eaten much the night before, devoured it, much to Jace's amusement.

When they were done, they walked up to the front, hand in hand, and Jace paid for the food. Kaelie batted her eyelashes at him. "Bye Jacey! Come around again, sometime, if you're feeling _alone _again."

Clary's blood began to boil.

"Maybe I can give you some more company."

Jace didn't even look at her. Instead, he grinned at Clary. "No,thanks," he said. "I have everything I need."

And then he kissed her.

* * *

There was a soft knock on Jace's bedroom door. Groaning, he sat up and glanced at the clock. 3:09 am. Who the hell was knocking on his bedroom door at three in the morning?

"What?" he asked, irritably.

Maryse poked her head around the door, holding a phone. "It's the head of the Los Angeles Police Department. He wants to speak with you."

Jace sat up like a rocket and held out his hand for the phone. Maryse placed it warily in his hand.

"If you need anything, sweetheart, don't hesitate to wake me or Robert. You matter more to us than any physical need, alright?"

Jace nodded slightly and waited for her to leave before putting the phone up to his ear and uncovering the mouthpiece. "Hello?" he said, surprised to hear that his own voice wasn't shaking.

"Is this Jonathan Christopher Herondale?"  
Jace winced at the use of his name and nodded, before realizing that the man on the other end of the phone couldn't see him. "Y-yes, this is he."

A sigh. "It isn't much, and it's far too late to dust for fingerprints, but…"

Jace's heart was hammering in his chest, his blood rushing in his ears, his hands trembling, threatening to drop the phone.

"We found the weapon used to murder your parents."

* * *

**OKAY. I know I said it was all going to be fluffy, but…I had to leave a cliffhanger in there. What do you think the murder weapon is? Heh. It's like playing a game of Clue. Were Clary and Jace too sappy? They're really going to bond over the mystery of their parents' deaths. So. They should seem unfamiliar and kind of awkward right now.**

** Until (probably tomorrow or Sunday) next time, my lovelies! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW.**


	9. Chapter 9

**HEY THERE. I'm working on Les Misérables right now. It's 5:20 pm. I've been here since 10 am. I will be here until 7 pm. So. I'm updating all my fanfics. :D**

**The song Clary sings is called To the Sky. No, it's not by Owl City. It's a folk song. (Benefits to being a classically trained soprano: you know a lot of really simple, really pretty folk songs. And this one is **_**beautiful**_**).**

* * *

Clary clutched her cell phone tightly, the metal digging into her palms painfully. "They what?"

On the other end, Jace sounded breathless, as if he had just run a marathon. "_They found the weapon. The one that the murderer used to kill my parents. I just…" _He took a deep, shuddering breath and Clary had the sudden urge to throw her arms around him and hold onto him tightly.

"_Can I come over to your house?"_

Clary glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was 3 in the morning. "Of course," she said. "Just text me when you're here, so you don't wake my mom and stepfather."

"_Thank you_."

Clary's heart constricted. Jace rarely said thank you. Even in the little time she'd known him, she knew that much. He sounded relieved.

"I'll see you soon," she said, and then waited for him to hang up before hanging up herself.

Clary sat up and took stock of her room. It was a mess. Throwing back the covers on her bed, she hurriedly picked up clothes from her floor and tossed them in her closet. She grabbed all her school supplies and put them in her backpack. Trash on her desk and floor went quickly into her trashcan. Just as the last Crayola marker was put in its bin, Clary's phone vibrated.

_**Here. **_

Clary tiptoed down the stairs and opened the door quietly—only to be attacked by a familiar, masculine form. She threaded her arms around Jace's waist and returned his hug as tightly as she could. She could feel him breathing hard, so she backed up into her house, shutting the door quietly behind her. She pulled away from him and looked up, trying to read his face. He looked unnervingly pale. She slipped her fingers between his and turned the porch light off, leading him towards the stairs.

Together, they went up the dark stairway, carefully, and eventually they made it to her brightly painted bedroom. Clary shut the door softly behind them, exhaling in relief when she heard the soft click of the door handle. She locked it and moved to her windows, throwing the smooth curtains open to let in the soft, luminous light of the moon. She turned toward Jace, who was standing over her bed, his head down, as if he were intently studying the sheets. She climbed onto her queen sized bed, kneeling and taking Jace's hand. She tugged on it gently, until he robotically sat on the bed.

Holding in a sigh and recalling how Luke had comforted her mother after her father had died, she got up off the bed and padded softly over to where Jace was sitting, the moonlight shining on his hair, creating a halo of silvery-gold on his head. She knelt down in front of him and began to sing a slow song her mother used to sing to her when she was scared of thunderstorms.

_To the sky, from the earth, in lofty flight_

She untied his shoes and slid them off his feet, pulling his socks off and tucking them in his shoes.

_From the hills so green to the flush of spring_

She stood up and unbuckled his watch, letting it fall from his wrist, and she placed it on the nightstand.

_So away with thee shall I fly, shall I fly_

She took a deep breath and worked on the buckle of his belt, pulling the belt out of his jeans and undoing the buttons.

_From this place to a land so far away_

She gently took his large, callused hands in her small ones and pulled him to his feet. With shaking hands, she slid his jeans down his legs, averting her gaze from the upper half of his body. She knelt before him again and helped him step out of his jeans before standing up again and sitting him back down on her bed. She climbed in next to him, and he moved closer to her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and leaning his head on her chest, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Is there another verse?" he asked, so quietly, Clary wasn't sure if she'd heard him right.

"What?"

"Is there another verse?"

"Yes."

"Can you sing it?" he asked, tightening his grip around her.

She nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her. She wrapped one arm around his torso and brought the other to up the back of his head. She rocked back and forth slightly, closing her eyes.

_Softly now with the dawn, I will ride with the wind_

_O'er hills through the mist on the wings of thee_

_Spirit fly, spirit fly to the cloud up above_

_Spirit fly to a place beyond the sky_

_Spirit fly, spirit fly, to a land on high_

_Softly now with the dawn, I go with thee_

Jace was shaking now, and Clary felt something wet tickle the skin on her chest. She was only wearing a light, somewhat revealing camisole and boy shorts.

Clary bit her lip as Jace cried softly, no doubt wrapped up in memories of his parents' deaths. She kept rocking back and forth her cheek laid on his hair, singing the song again and again. This poor, messed up, scarred boy. He'd seemed put together in the barn the other day. But now she wondered…if you saw something as horrible as he had, as a child, could you ever recover from that? Just how broken was the boy in her arms? How scarred? Could she ever put him back together? Could she ever be enough for him?

She would try.

As she finished the second verse for the fifth time, she noticed Jace had stopped crying and was looking up at her with swollen eyes. She looked down at him and gave him a small, sad smile. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, threading her fingers in his hair.

"No," Jace answered honestly, lifting himself up off of her and sitting cross legged on her bed, knotting his hands in his lap. "I don't know if I ever will be. I thought I had it under control, but then the police—" He broke off.

Clary looked at him in understanding. "I understand, Jace. You don't have to apologize or explain. I just…I want you to know that—that if you ever need me, ever, you have my full permission to come here. I'll even talk to Luke, my stepfather, about making you a spare key."

Jace looked up at her, his expression mildly surprised. "Your parents would be okay with me sneaking into your room every night?"

She shrugged. "As long as we didn't do anything…stupid. And as long as we didn't wake them up. They understand, Jace," she added, seeing his expression. "They know. They know how hard it is to lose someone like we have. I didn't just lose my father. My mom lost her husband. Luke lost his best friend."

Jace nodded absentmindedly, staring at her shirt. Puzzled, she looked down at her camisole. It was soaked with tears, as was her skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pulling his shirt off and wiping his own tears off her skin. "I don't…I haven't cried since…since I was ten. That was when my parents…died."

Despite the situation, Clary had to keep from staring at his chest. "It's okay, Jace," she said softly. "Crying is good. Crying means that you _care. _That you _feel _something. I would be genuinely worried if you'd never cried in your life."

Jace swallowed and pressed his shirt into her hand. "You can wear mine. I won't look while you're changing."

True to his word, Jace bent his head and covered his face with his hands.

Clary looked at him with concern and peeled her camisole off, tossing it into the corner of her bedroom and pulling Jace's warm t-shirt over her head. She inhaled his scent deeply. "You can open your eyes now."

Jace looked up, and a wave of something Clary couldn't identify passed over his face. He smiled a little. "You look great."

Clary felt herself flush. Jace reached out and pulled her over to where he was, leaning against the headboard, and she tucked herself into the slight dip where his body and the mattress met, laying her head and her right hand on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and played with a lock of her hair.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Clary asked quietly.

Jace tensed.

"You don't have to, of course. I just thought…never mind."

Jace shook his head. "No. That's why I came here in the first place. I wanted to talk to someone about it. Someone who would understand."

"Not someone who would sympathize. But empathize," Clary elaborated for him. "Not the Lightwoods."

"Exactly. They would be completely willing to listen…but, I don't think I can bear their pity right now."

"Pity is a bitter thing," Clary said. "When my father died, at the funeral, everyone would come up to me and say something like 'I'm so sorry' or 'I'll be praying for you' or 'If you ever need anything just let me know,' and I wanted to slap each and every one of them."

Both of them were silent, and if it weren't for Jace's uneven breathing, Clary might have thought he'd fallen asleep. But after half an hour, he finally found his voice again, snapping Clary back to full consciousness.

"I got home after dropping you off here, and I was in bed, almost asleep, when Maryse knocked on the door. She had the police on the phone. It wasn't a long conversation. They told me they'd found the murder weapon, and if I wanted, this week I could visit the police station and examine it for any…clues, I guess. I don't know. Talking about the weapon made it more real than it had felt when I'd actually…_seen_ and _buried_ my parents. My mind suddenly decided to plunge itself into flashbacks of that day, and I had a panic attack."

Clary looked up to find him looking at her somberly.

"Clary, I haven't had a panic attack for two years now. It was gone. I was okay. I still had nightmares, but…nothing this bad. It has _never _been this bad before."

Clary flipped over so she was practically lying on top of his stomach. She linked her fingers with his. "Okay. Well, what do you usually do to stop them? The panic attacks?"

He blinked. "I don't do anything. I endure them."

Clary made a noise of surprise and pushed herself up on her elbow. "You can't do that anymore, Jace. It's not—it's not safe. You could end up hurting yourself, or-or someone else—"

"Well, what do you suggest I do?"

She bit her lip. "I think you need to see a doctor, Jace."

He looked offended. "I'm not _mental_—"

"Shh, I know," she said, bringing one of her finger up to his lips to silence him. "It's just…I think you have PTSD, Jace. That can be really dangerous. Really _really _dangerous. People have killed their families, committed suicide, because of PTSD. If you have it, you need to fix it. Now."

Jace was silent. He was looking at her hair, his expression unreadable, his fingers still twisted in her curls.

Clary sighed and looked at the foot of the bed, away from Jace, leaning her head back on his chest. "I care about you, Jace. I care about you a lot. I don't want anything to happen to you," she said, her voice hitching at the end.

She felt Jace press his lips to her forehead, and then felt him bury his face in her hair.

"I'll have Maryse call a psychiatrist tomorrow," he mumbled.

Clary expelled a breath, squeezing his hand. "_Thank _you."

"Can we go to sleep now?"

Clary laughed and sat up, pulling back the covers and letting him climb in before sliding in next to him. "Yes."

Jace wrapped his arms around her, and their legs tangled together. Clary felt secure, safe, warm. She wanted him to never let go of her. Clary was just slipping into unconsciousness when she heard his voice again.

"Clary?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

Clary turned to face him in surprise. She opened her mouth to respond, but she never got the chance. Jace pressed his lips to hers, sweetly and gently, his hands threading into her hair. She closed her eyes and returned the kiss, pouring all of her unsaid words into this one bit of physical connection.

When they pulled away, Clary saw that Jace's eyes were alight.

"I love you, too."

* * *

**Um, I don't know about you guys…but I really love this chapter. **

**Anyway. A few people have remarked on Jace and Clary's 'fall in love at first sight.' It wasn't necessarily that. Yes, it was 'intrigue at first sight,' which is possible. So is love at first sight. But this isn't that. They were interested in each other, so they pursued that interest. Their common traumatic experiences has escalated their relationship very quickly, which is a very realistic thing to have happen.**

**Anyway. Review! There might be a lemon coming up, I don't know. I write them really well (blushes) but…I don't know if you guys want one. Let me know!**


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